St Peter Damian Selected Writings On The Spiritual Life Translation With An Introduction

on the

by SI,

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of a

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ST.

Writings on the
Life

translated with an Introduction
by Patricia McNutty

With the publication of this volume the
first translation of the works of St. Peter
Damian Into a modem languagethe
great hiatus in the mystical tradition
betweeea Gregory the Great aad St. Ber-
nard of Clairvaux Is closed. One of the
most dynamic figures of the eleventh cen-
tury, Damian was noted for a life of holy
simplicity in the midst of high responsi-
bility in church affairs. His profoundly
devout and wide-ranging writings stand
as a testimony to ta spirituality of his
age, a crucial one IE the thought and life
of the church,

; This Italian Cardinal was not only an
ecclesiastical statesman but a leader of
the reform movement in the monasteries
and in Uu papacy. He was a compas-
sionate and mderstanding spiritual ad-
viser to laymei'u -mticipating later writers
in his belief thu 'til men, not only a
chosen few, could bid should aspire to

(Continued ot< *>ack flap)

No. 9441 A 0260

KANSAS CITY, MO PUBLIC LIBRARY

248 P62s 60-01993
Pietro Damiani
Selected writings on the
Spiritual life

248 P62s 60-01993
Pietro Damiani Gift
Selected writings on the
Spiritual life

St. Peter Damian

CLASSICS OF THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE
General Editor
J. M. HUSSET

ST. PETER DAMIAN: Selected Writings on the Spiritual JLife, trans-
lated -with an introduction by Patricia McNulty.

ST. JOHN CLIMACUS: The Ladder of Divine Ascent ', translated
by Archimandrite Lazarus with an introduction by M.
Heppell.

MEISTER ECKKART: Selected Treatises and Sermons* translated
from Latin and German "with an introduction and notes by
James M, Clark and John V. Skinner.

Edited by E. ALLISON PEERS;

BERNARDINO i>E LAREDO: The Ascent of Mount Sion 9 being
the third book of the treatise of that name translated -with an
introduction and notes by E. Allison Peers.

WALTER HILTON: The Goad of JLove^ an unpublished trans-
lation of the Stimulus Amoris formerly attributed to St. Bona-
ventura, now edited from MSS. by Clare Kirchberger.

HENRY suso: JLiftle Book of Eternal Wisdom and JLittle Book of
Truth* edited by James M. Clark.

BLESSED JAN VAN RUYSBROEK: The Spiritual Espousals >
translated from the Dutch with an introduction by Eric
Colledge.

RICHARD OF SAINT-VICTOR: Selected Writings on Contempla-
tion, translated with an introduction and notes by Clare
Klirchberger.

ST. PETER DAMIAN

Selected Writings on the Spiritual Life
translated with an Introduction

by

PATRICIA MCNULTY

HARPER & BROTHERS

Publishers
New York

(C< Patricia McNulty 19 J9

Printed in Great Britain

AD MEMORIAM
PATRIS CARISSIMI

Contents

PREFACE page 9

INTRODUCTION n

1. St. Peter Daman* s Life and Background n

2. St. Peter Daman's Ascetical Teaching 26

(i) The Purpose of Asceticism 26

(ii) Daman's Ascetical Teaching 3 3

(iii) The sources of Daman's Ascetical Thought 47

THE BOOK OF 'THE LORD BE WITH YOU' 53

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS 82

CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM 137

SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY 147
A HOMILY IN HONOUR AND PRAISE OF ST. BENEDICT,

ABBOT AND CONFESSOR 159
SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE

HOLY CROSS 167

SERMON ON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND His GRACE 176

BIBLIOGRAPHY 182

INDEX 185

Preface

It Is difficult to find in any western spiritual writer between
St. Gregory the Great and St. Bernard a systematic treatment
of the theory of the contemplative life. Yet during the six
centuries still called "dark 5 the tradition established by Augustine
and Gregory lived and grew in the monasteries of the West
which preserved so much for us; secretly and quietly, it is true,
but nevertheless handed down with many other precious things
to the high middle ages. Its chief exponent in the eleventh
century was St. Peter Damian. Although he wrote no treatise
on the contemplative life as such, his writings are strewn with
references to the contemplative and ascetic lives, and from
them it is possible to piece together his theory of contem-
plation.

I have chosen three of his treatises and some sermons which
seem to me to illustrate his theories most clearly. The treatises
are numbers n, 13 and 58 according to Gaetanfs numbering,
and are entitled "The Book of "The Lord be with you",'
*On the Perfection of Monks* and 'Concerning True Happiness
and Wisdom*. I have also tried to analyse the principles under-
lying his spirituality. If the result resembles that humble bunch
of herbs which Damian describes as being given by the im-
pecunious man to his creditor in lieu of payment the fault is
mine, not his. His contemplative writings may be as the
flowers of the hedgerow in comparison with those of St.
Bernard or Richard of St. Victor, but they are indeed beautiful
to those who have patience to follow his winding lanes.

In translating from the Bible I have used the Authorized
Version wherever possible; otherwise I have had recourse to
Mgr. R. A. Knox's translation of the Vulgate. Where Damian's
text differs from both of these, I have made my own
version.

PREFACE

It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge the unfailing help
and encouragement of Professor J. M. Hussey and the generous
advice and assistance of my friends and colleagues Miss N. P,
Miller and Miss I. Hyde,

10

INTRODUCTION

j, St. Peter Damian* s Lzfe and background

The eleventh century was a notable and crucial age in the
history of the Western Church. The great figures of that time,
Hildebrand and Leo IX, Desiderius of Monte-Cassino and
Lanfranc, Humbert of Silva-Candida, and Peter Damian him-
self., in his own time Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia and now recog-
nized as a Doctor of the Church, are in stature as mighty and
in influence as far-reaching as any of the great ecclesiastics of
the high middle ages.

Damian* s life-span covered almost the whole of the first
three-quarters of the eleventh century. The chief sources for
our knowledge of his life and work are his own writings and
the contemporary vita written by his friend and disciple John
of Lodi; these are supplemented by a few charters and other
documents relating to the Congregation of Fonte Avellana,
one or two papal letters, signatures to papal documents and
isolated references in contemporary chronicles.

The writings of Peter Damian were first edited early in the
seventeenth century by Dom Costantino Gaetani. 1 Later work
has brought to light only four letters and two manuscripts
unknown to Gaetani, and these have since been published. 2
Most of the charters relating to the Congregation of Fonte
Avellana were published by Mittarelli and Costadoni in the
Annales Camaldulenses.

The documents which form the basis of any study of

1 This is the edition used by Migne, Patrologia Latino. 144 and 145, which is at
present the only available printed version. A critical edition of Damian's works
is urgently needed.

8 V. J. Leclercq, e Les ia&lits de S. Pierre Damien' in Revue BtnSdictine, 67, 1957.

II

INTRODUCTION

Damian's life and thought are, therefore, by nature bio-
graphical and subjective, lacking the lapidary impersonality of
the administrative document or the inscription. The body of
letters and sermons is distinguished in the first place by its
literary quality, testifying as it does to an astonishing mastery
of the Latin tongue and an unusual combination of passion and
Christian spirituality which have caused Damian to be com-
pared to St. Jerome. Damian's correspondents include every
pope from Gregory VI to Alexander II and the most celebrated
leaders of the contemporary reform movement: Humbert of
Silva-Candida, Archdeacon Hildebrand, Desiderius of Monte-
Cassino, Hugh of Cluny and Anno of Cologne, as well as great
lay person's like the Empress Agnes and the Emperor Henry
III, and Godfrey, Duke of Tuscany, his wife Beatrice and their
daughter Matilda. He wrote to all of them concerning the reli-
gious and moral crises of his day, advising, exhorting and not
infrequently castigating. But Damian was not only a counsellor
of popes and princes; he was a loving father to his monks, and
an affectionate and prudent kinsman and friend. His vast corres-
pondence shows us every facet of his often bewildering and
enigmatic, but always impressive and attractive, personality.

Peter Damian was born in the city of Ravenna, the ancient
capital of Theodoric the Ostrogoth and of the Byzantine exarch
after the Italian province had been recaptured by Justinian's
generals. Throughout its history the city had been famous for
its connections with and loyalty to the imperium\ not only to the
glorious Emperors of the East, who had created and adorned
its splendour, but also to their barbarian usurpers and succes-
sors. This loyalty had its roots in enlightened self-interest; it
was based on the claims of the archbishops of Ravenna to metro-
politan rank and complete independence of the Roman See.

With the coming of the Ottonian Emperors to Italy, the
factors which had contributed to the importance of this great
city emerged once more. The Prankish rulers wanted a firm
foothold in the north; and the archbishops of Ravenna were
perfectly prepared to support Ottonian pretensions to imperial
power in exchange for local independence. When Arnold, half-

12

INTRODUCTION

brother to the Emperor Henry II, was placed by his imperial
kinsman on the archiepiscopal throne Ravenna attained her
fullest independence and the height of her imperialism.

But the Ravenna into which Damian was born was notable
for other things besides its traditional imperial leanings. It was
the seat of a distinguished school of learning, the most cele-
brated of whose sons had perhaps been the poet Venantius
Fortunatus. And it had produced within a short span of time
three men devoted to the eremitic ideal: Darnian himself,
St. Romuald, the fons et origo of the north Italian eremitic
movement, and John of Fecamp, nephew of the great monastic
reformer William of Volpiano, distinguished abbot of a famous
house, friend and counsellor of the Empress Agnes, and author
of the moving 'Deploratio Quietis et Solitudinis Derelictae 5 .
These aspects of eleventh-century Ravenna its imperial lean-
ings and tendency to independence of the Papacy, its learned
tradition and the fact that it was the birthplace of several men
devoted to the ideal of the solitary life must have had a
profound influence on Damian.

It was in or about January 1007 that Damian was born into
an already large family, a late and not altogether welcome
arrival. His biographer gives us a lively account of the family
reaction: 'When his mother brought him, her last child, into
the world, one of her sons, akeady well-advanced into
adolescence, cried out in complaint: "For shame! There are
akeady so many of us that the house will scarcely hold us; and
what a discrepancy there is between the number of heirs and
the narrow inheritance!" ? Both parents died when Peter was a
young child, and he was cared for and educated by his elder
brother Damian, whose name he afterwards adopted as a sign
of filial affection; for Damian's love for his youngest brother
seems to have exceeded even that of a father. Certainly he gave
him the best education that he could provide. Peter Damian
spent fifteen years of his life, from his thirteenth to his twenty-
eighth year, learning and teaching in the schools of northern
Italy. It may therefore be not out of place to give some account
of these schools.

INTRODUCTION

Scholarship and learning in Italy had suffered the same
vagaries and been threatened by the same perils as in the other
western regions during the early medieval centuries. Liberal
studies had to face two great enemies: the barbarian invaders
and a powerful group within the Church itself whose attitude
to secular studies might be described as intellectual Manichae-
ism. But there were two factors at work in Italy which modified
the effects of these perils and gave to the Italian schools of the
middle ages a character of their own. The first of these was the
fact that in Italy Roman civilization and culture were ancient
and deeply-rooted. The second, which was a consequence of
this, was that education in Italy never became a clerical prero-
gative. The line of succession between the imperial schools of
rhetoric and the medieval scholae publicae remained unbroken.
Whereas the barbarians of the north and west made use of the
Church to impose a civilization which was alien to them, those
who entered Italy were absorbed imperceptibly by a culture
which was strong enough to survive the assaults which they
made upon it and to assimilate those forces which at one time
threatened to extinguish it.

In the eleventh century the centre of Italian learning and
culture lay in the north. The school of Parma was the most
famous in northern and central Italy, being particularly cele-
brated for its teachers of grammar and law. Among its distin-
guished grammarians at this time were Homodei and Theo-
dulf., while Drogo, Geizo and Azo all taught jurisprudence; it
boasted, too, a celebrated astronomer, Hugo. At Faenza, the
school was ruled over by the grammarian Rainerius. The
school of Ravenna had risen under the great Gerbert (later
Pope Sylvester II) to a position of importance. Law was
studied there, and its famous grammarian Vilgardus achieved
notorious mention in the chronicle of Ralph Glaber, who men-
tions in passing the addiction of the Italians to the study of
grammar and poetry. In 1023, the school was in charge of
Petrus Scholasticus, and it is reasonable to assume that he had
some hand in Damian's education.

It would be logical, therefore, to suppose that Damian's

14

INTRODUCTION

studies were chiefly concerned with grammar, rhetoric and law,
and his writings everywhere support such a conclusion. The
style and content of his work show an intimate knowledge of
and unusual ability in the subjects of the trivium> and he is
familiar with both civil and canon law. His vast scriptural and
theological knowledge, however, have their roots in a later
period of his life when he first went to Fonte Avellana.

Throughout his student days and during the short time
which he spent teaching in the school at Ravenna Damian lived
a life of great austerity, devoting himself to prayer and penance.
But his was not a nature to be satisfied with half-measures, and
he soon abandoned his successful teaching career, having
decided that for him the only way of salvation lay in renuncia-
tion of the world. His conversion profoundly affected his
attitude to secular learning; or perhaps it would be truer to say
that it brought to the surface a latent quality in his spirit. This
reaction against worldly learning had a twofold basis: the
violence of his temperament almost inevitably meant that he
did everything by extremes; but at the same time, when he
entered die eremitic community at Fonte Avellana he became
heir to an established ascetic tradition of mistrust of the wise
ones of this world. This mistrust had its roots in the early his-
tory of the Church, when Christianity had everything to fear
from the pagan philosophers and their teachings. Fortunately
for the future of the western world, this attitude gradually died
out. But it persisted in certain quarters, and its great strong-
hold was the ascetic mind. St. Jerome and St. Gregory both
epitomize it: the former when he quotes the angel's condemna-
tion, 'Ciceronianus es, non Christianus', and the latter when
he writes to Desiderius of Vienne: c ln uno ore cum lovis
laudibus laudes Christi non capiunt.' Such sentiments as these
were not confined to the barbarian West; they are echoed in
the writings of eastern ascetics like Symeon the New Theo-
logian. They illustrate the intellectual dualism to be found
throughout Christendom.

It is easy to exaggerate Damian's anti-scholastic tendencies.
In his attitude to secular learning he was inconsistent; for in

15

INTRODUCTION

spite of his condemnation of the 'stulti sapientes' of the schools,
he put his nephew Damian under the care of a Prankish abbot
whom he asked to send him back wedded to the twin brides
of the trivium and quadrivium. Nevertheless, he had no con-
demnation too strong for monks who occupied themselves
with secular studies: 'those who join the crowd of gram-
marians, and forsaking spiritual studies desire to learn the
follies of worldly knowledge; who think little of the rule of
Benedict and find their pleasure in the rules of Donatus'. 1 And
he says to his own brethren: 'Would that you were unable to
say: "The laws of Justinian are better to us than any gold or
silver/' * The study of grammar, which involved a deep know-
ledge of the pagan poets, and of civil law, which aroused too
great an interest in worldly affairs, seemed to him to be con-
trary to the true monastic spirit, and wholly irrelevant to the
goal of the monastic life: the vision of God. 'Who lighteth a
lantern that he may see the sun, or candles that he may behold
the glory of the stars ?*

His years of teaching at Ravenna brought to a close the first
half of Damian's life; when he entered the monastery of Fonte
Avellana in 103 5 he was nearly thirty years of age. He brought
to his new vocation a powerful and trained intelligence, a
temperament at once violent and austere and a fierce zeal for
his own holiness and for the salvation of others. It would seem
too that he brought a reputation for austerity and piety, since
we are told by his biographer that as soon as he asked for
admittance to the monastery of Fonte Avellana he was assigned
to a spiritual director, and very soon afterwards clothed with
the cowl, the symbol of full membership of the community,
which was not usually worn until after a period of probation.
Perhaps the small and struggling community wished to make
sure that Damian did not leave them too swiftly; the brilliant
young teacher from Ravenna would have been an adornment
to any of the great houses of his day.

1 Aelius Donatus was the most celebrated grammarian of trie fourth century
and the master of St. Jerome. He wrote two treatises on grammar, the Ars Minor
and the Ars Major, which were standard text-books in the medieval schools.

16

INTRODUCTION

Damian's own writings and John's life of him give a clear
picture of his early years at Fonte Avellana. From the moment
of his entry his austere zeal for ascetic practices and his intent-
ness in prayer astounded his brethren. The monks lived two
by two in cells 'unremitting in spiritual combat both by night
and day, armed with the indefeasible weapons of psalmody,
prayer, reading, abstinence and obedience*. 1 On four days of
the week they ate nothing but bread, water and salt, sup-
plemented on the other three by a few vegetables which they
cooked for themselves in their cells; wine was used only for
the Holy Sacrifice and for the sick. They went barefoot within
the hermitage winter and summer alike.

The house of Fonte Avellana lay then, as its deserted build-
ings do today, on the lower slopes of Mount Catria, a lofty
Apennine peak which stands some fifteen miles north-west of
the episcopal city of Gubbio, in a wild and beautiful country-
side. In the eleventh century the building consisted of a church
(its crypt still remains) and cloister, a scriptorium and other
offices, and, close to the church, the cells in which some of the
brethren lived in pairs. Further afield, scattered on the higher
slopes, must have stood the cells of those who lived a life of
strict seclusion, and who only left their solitude to join in the
common worship of the community on Sundays and great
feasts.

The community consisted of three groups: the professed
brethren, of whom some at least were priests, and who lived
either as recluses in the more distant cells or, if their duties
demanded it, in the monastic cells close to the church; the
novices, each of whom was placed under the tutelage of one of
the brethren, who instructed him in spiritual discipline and
was responsible for his welfare; and the lay-brethren who
performed most of the manual labour. Most of Damian's
monastic experience was as a member of the first group: that
is to say, either as a recluse or as an official of the community
living a quasi-monastic life.

There were probably not more than a dozen reclusi at any

3 John of Lodi, Vita Beats Petri Damiaw t 0.5.
B 17

INTRODUCTION

one time. They spent their days in their cells except on Sundays
and important feasts, when they took part in the liturgical
worship of the community. These rough wooden or stone
cells contained only the barest necessities: a straw palliasse, a
tough bench and table, and a few cooking utensils and tools,
together with such books as were necessary: a psalter, a
breviary and a text from the scriptorium for spiritual reading.
Their day was spent in the recitation of the Divine Office,
private prayer, reading and manual labour. The problems
raised by the recitation of the public ptayer of the church in
solitude were very real and troublesome to some of the hermits,
and it was to resolve their difficulties that Damian wrote the
Liber de Dommus Vobiscum which is translated here. Besides the
general task of liturgical prayer, it was the custom of the
congregation to recite daily the whole of the psalter for the
faithful on earth, and as much as possible of a second psalter
for the faithful departed. The recitation of the canonical hours
and this dual reading of the psalter must have occupied a very
considerable proportion of their waking hours, probably six
or seven hours daily. They spent about two hours a day in
reading and another two or three in manual labour. The type
of manual labour performed depended on individual aptitude;
Damian himself spent much time in writing and in correcting
the codices in the scriptorium, while John of Lodi was an
active copier of manuscripts. The purpose of such labour was
not material, but spiritual benefit: it was an aid to concentra-
tion and warded off the attacks of the noonday devil of acedia
or despondency. It is possible that on fast-days no manual
labour was performed; die time thus saved was probably spent
in private prayer and meditation.

Those of the brethren who lived two in a cell, close to the
church, led a life similar in its essentials to that of the recluses,
the chief difference being that they sang the canonical hours in
choir. This demanded a slightly less austere regime, since the
proper performance of the opus Dei could not be combined
with the incredibly severe fasts of the solitaries. Besides, this
group had other duties to perform, since it included the

18

INTRODUCTION

officers of the monastery, the directors of the novices and the
novices themselves.

The monastery of St. Andrew was, when Damian entered it,
struggling for its very existence, and this situation continued
until after he became prior. At that time he wrote to the arch-
bishop of Ravenna: 'In taking upon myself the government of
this poor little place I, who was previously poor in myself
alone, am now poor also in the persons of all those whom I
rule. I know what it is to be responsible for others and to lack
the means of supplying their needs.* But the necessary austeri-
ties imposed by the harsh way of life and the indigence of the
Avellanese community did not satisfy Damian's hunger for
mortification; he added to the prescribed penitences and abstin-
ences many others, until his health was gravely weakened.
The chief cause of damage seems to have been lack of
sleep, which brought about some sort of violent headache
and fever. When he had recovered from this illness he
moderated his ascetical practices and spent the time thus saved
in equipping himself with a knowledge of the scriptures and
of theology.

It was hardly to be expected that no demands would be made
upon such learning and holiness; all his life, Damian's abilities
and zeal were to take him on weary journeys and into uncon-
genial environments on the business of the Church and for the
salvation of others, when he himself wished only to be quiet
in his cell, among his books, following without interruption
those ways which would bring him at last to rest in the contem-
plation of the Godhead. His inevitable future was very soon
apparent. First he was commanded by the prior to preach to
his own brethren; then, as his reputation spread, the heads of
nearby houses asked that he be sent to their monasteries to
instruct the brethren. So he went, at the request of Abbot
Guido, to Pomposa, 'to supply the brethren with the nourish-
ment of the holy word'. Here he remained for two years, until
recalled to Fonte Avellana by the prior. He also spent some
time at the monastery of St. Vincent, similarly engaged in
teaching and preaching. On his second return to his own house

INTRODUCTION

he was made procurator, and after the death of his master
about 1042 he became prior in his stead.

The accession of Peter Damian to the priorate marked a new
beginning for the hitherto unimportant Avellanese community,
which now embarked upon a period of expansion and pros-
perity. His fame as a teacher and reformer had brought
Damian into contact with many important laymen and clerics,
and these men and women became the benefactors of his house.
New recruits came to Mount Catria, among them John of
Lodi himself; and Damian went on to found hermitages else-
where; at Suavicina, near Camerino, at Sitria and Monte Acuto
near Gubbio, at Acereta and Gamugnio near Faenza, at Campo-
reggiano, near Perugia, and at Murciano near Rimini. He pre-
sided over and regularly visited this congregation of monas-
teries and hermitages until his death; his rule, even when the
pressure of business meant that it had to be exercised through
delegates, was absolute and fatherly, as his letters to various
houses and their heads and the surviving charters of this period
show. But Fonte Avellana itself remained his home and held
his special affection. John of Lodi tells us: 'He visited the house
and community of the Holy Cross at Fonte Avellana as often
as he could, for it was dearer to him than all others. He could
not forget those with whom he had dwelt from the beginning
of his life in religion, and whom the Master's command had
committed to his care. 5

But the times were too critical, and Damian's own zeal and
ability too great, for him to remain in the quiet of Fonte Avel-
lana ruling his congregation and pursuing the way of perfec-
tion in solitude. The crisis in the Church was approaching its
peak, and it was not in Damian's nature to rest in a backwater
and watch the main current of affairs flowing past him, how-
ever deeply he may have desired such seclusion. Already in the
early years of his priorate he had emerged as one of the leading
ecclesiastical figures of northern Italy, corresponding with
Gregory VI and Clement II about the needs of the Ravennese
province, and welcoming with joy the reforming activities of
the Emperor Henry III in the north. Nor was he unaware,

20

INTRODUCTION

even at this time, of the wider issues at stake. His earliest
recorded letter, written to the cardinal deacon Peter, shows
that the central issue of reform was clear to him: 'Unless the
Roman See returns to the right way it is certain that the whole
world will remain in error. And it is necessary that she who
was the foundation of the development of human salvation
should also be the source of its renewal.' 1 But he did not yet see
this problem as one of liberating the papacy from imperial
control, and perhaps he was never to do so; for he knew Ger-
man cesaropapism only at its best, in the persons of Henry III
and the saintly Empress Agnes. Nevertheless, although his
conception of the relationship of the two powers was Gelasian,
and although he could never have subscribed to the theocratic
idea of papal government expressed by such men as Innocent
IV, Damian was one of the most ardent supporters of the re-
formed papacy, for it was as clear to him as to any of his con-
temporaries that the Church could only be saved from within
and above. It was partly a certain political innocence and
naivete which led him to believe that Pope and Emperor could
and should work in unruffled concord to bring Christ's body
back to its proper and pristine state. The problems raised by
tangled and conflicting interests, of Pope and Emperor, Nor-
man and German, Godfrey of Lorraine and Anno of Cologne,
did not concern him. But there was more than this in his
attitude. Himself so single-mindedly concerned for the things
of God and of the spirit, he was reluctant to believe that
others' desires and interests were less admirable. For so
eminent a legate and cardinal, one who had close contacts
both with the papal curia and with leading laymen, he retained
a surprising amount of holy simplicity.

Damian's prestige was not sufficiently high at the time of the
accession of Leo IX to the pontificate in 1049 for him to be
called in immediately as an indispensable helper in the work
of the reformed papal court. He probably made his first appear-
ances at the annual synods of this time as a right-minded sup-
porter of the new ecclesiastical policy from the north; and once
"*Episfola8 lib. H, 19. PX. 144, 288.
21

INTRODUCTION

he had made an entry his talents did the rest. It is clear from
his sermons and letters that he had a genius for hortatory
preaching which, combined with his obvious sincerity and
goodness, must have been both irresistible and terrifying. And
we know that he was not afraid to speak his mind to any man
on earth when an issue of moral principle was involved; the
Roman pontiff and the German ruler were no exceptions to
this rule. The "monitor of the popes' as he has been called,
used his literary powers to good advantages in Leo's ponti-
ficate and contributed two important treatises to the repertory
of reform, each dealing with one of the two great evils of his
time: clerical immorality and simony. The Liber Gomorrhianus
painted an appalling picture of the decay and degeneracy of the
priesthood, while the Liber Gratissimus was a reasoned and
charitable contribution to one of the difficult and controversial
problems of the age: the validity of simoniacal orders. It is,
however, possible that both writings aroused opposition in
papal circles, the first by its outspokenness and the second
because it conflicted with the views of the eminent Lorraine
reformer Cardinal Humbert of Silva-Candida, who held that
ordinations administered by simoniacs were invalid. Such
opposition may account for the comparative neglect of
Damian by Leo during the later years of his pontificate; on the
other hand, this may be due to the fact that the Pope was
absent from Italy for long periods during this time.

Peter Damian emerged once again from his retirement during
the pontificate of Stephen IX (1057-58). At this time the in-
fluence of his friend Hildebrand was growing at Rome, and it
would seem that he was responsible for Datnian's elevation to
the cardinal-bishopric of Ostia by Stephen. Damian himself
was extremely reluctant to take upon himself the pastoral care
and the press of administrative business involved in the charge
of the senior cardinal-bishopric and membership of the Sacred
College; it appears that he only yielded to Stephen's demand
under threat of excommunication. This honour took him
another step away from that solitude and recollection which
were for him the instruments of spiritual perfection. But it is

22

INTRODUCTION

to his credit that he did not stand aside or refuse to aid the
Roman Church in her need. The see of Ostia itself called for
little of his time; it was a decaying seaport which had declined
still further during the Saracen harryings of the Italian coast;
perhaps if it had been a more adequate field for his labours
Damian would have been less anxious to resign his charge there
in order to return to his monastery. This deske of his to leave
his diocese was not, however, to be satisfied until Alexander
XFs time, and even then he was not relieved of his duties as
bishop and cardinal, as his legatine work and his own letters
clearly show. He wrote to Alexander in 1063: 'You have said
that I should not, because of my great desire for the life of
contemplation, neglect to write to you from time to time. As
far as you are concerned, venerable father, who have agreed to
the laying down of my episcopal burden, I would indeed have
leisure for both contemplation and letter-writing, but I am
never free from the press of business. It is true that my cell is
a haven to me, and that when I am there I have found the
safety of the shore. But to what end ? For when I am there,
desiring only tranquillity and peace, and thinking myself safe,
I am smitten by die winds of this savage world and over-
whelmed more than ever by the rising tide of affairs. . . . Those
who require counsel for their souls' health are not lacking;
what is still harder, men still strive to extract a pontifical deci-
sion from me, who am no longer a bishop. All my endeavour
takes place within the walls of such troubles; I strive, but my
strength is almost at an end. I cannot reach the heights of
contemplation; I do not burst into tears of compunction. My
mind, overshadowed by the darkness of worldly affairs, en-
deavours in vain to reach the heights of contemplation; it is
weighed down by the business of this world as if with piles of
stones/ 1 He paid a heavy price for his work among the
reformers.

Damian's work as legate began in 1059, when he was sent by

Pope Nicholas II to Milan to deal with the difficult situation

which had arisen there as a result of the growth of a popular

1 Epistolae lib. 15. P.L. 144, 225-6.

23

INTRODUCTION

movement for clerical reform. The opposition of the Patarines,
as the popular party was called, to the worldly lives of the
Milanese clergy, who were frequently both simoniac and
married, had become an open revolt. His work as papal legate
(a task which he shared with Anselm of Lucca, later Pope
Alexander II) was complicated by the traditional hostility of
the Church of Milan, which had always claimed an Ambrosian
independence, to any interference from Rome. By his splendid
oratory Damian convinced the Milanese of the justice of the
claim of the papacy to intervene in the affairs of local churches:
'What province of all the kingdoms of the earth lies outside
her authority? ... All patriarchs, all metropolitans, all bishop-
rics, and the dignities of all the churches were established by
kings or emperors or other men; their special powers were
given them by those men according to their power or desire to
do so; He who founded the Church of Rome on the rock of the
newborn faith was He who gave to the keeper of the keys of
life everlasting the rights of heavenly and earthly rule.' 1
Having won their respect, Damian proceeded to deal merci-
fully with the Milanese clergy, putting into practice the prin-
ciples concerning simoniacal orders which he had expressed in
the Liber Gratissimus. And, as J. P. Whitney has pointed out, 2
he was glad of an opportunity to bring pressure to bear on the
bishops, who had been too easily pardoned in the past by the
popes. Shortly afterwards, in April 1059, Damian was present
at the Lateran synod which proclaimed the famous Election
decree, asserting the right of the cardinal clergy, and no others,
to make elections to the See of Peter. He was one of the
witnesses to this important document.

After the death of Nicholas II in 1061 there was another
ecclesiastical crisis. An antipope, Cadalus of Parma, had been
elected in opposition to Alexander II, and Damian wrote
several letters in the next few years castigating this 'evil priest,
the ruin of the people'. 'Were you born', he asks him, 'to wage
war on the world, to destroy the work and labours of the

1 Aldus Mediolanensis. P.L. 145, 91.

2 J. P. Whitney, Hildebrandine Essays, p. 140.

24

INTRODUCTION

Apostles, and to ruin the whole Church of Christ by your
ambition?' fie was a good friend to Alexander II, although his
influence with that pope was probably eclipsed by that of
Hildebrand, and relations between them were not always easy.
The closeness of the friendship between Damian and Alexander
is perhaps rather curiously illustrated by the fact that Damian
spoke his mind even more frankly to him than to any other
pope; when asked by Alexander why the lives of the bishops
of Rome were usually so short, he replied that it was because
the Lord wished to keep them properly humble. It was
Alexander who despatched him, in 1063, to act as papal legate
and settle the acrimonious dispute between the monastery of
Cluny and Drogo, bishop of Macon. On behalf of the papacy
Damian upheld Cluny's claim to exemption from episcopal
visitation.

His third great legatine mission took place in 1069, when he
was an ageing and frail man of sixty-two. He was sent by
Alexander to Frankfurt, to prevent Henry IV from divorcing
his wife Bertha. Again, his formidable combination of saintli-
ness and oratorical power won the day. After this, for the last
two years of his life, he was allowed to rest in peace at his
beloved Fonte Avellana. None of his datable writings come
from this period, but we may be allowed to believe that, having
attained at last the leisure which he had so long desired and
which he had freely sacrificed that the Church of God might
be restored to her pristine purity, he found that peace and
delight in the contemplation of the Godhead which were for
him the end of all earthly striving. Yet he was not to die where
he had longed to live. At the beginning of 1072 Alexander
commanded him once more to undertake a legatine journey,
this time to his own mother-church of Ravenna, which was in
a not unusual state of turbulence and indiscipline. Once more
he accomplished his work well, and having accomplished it
died while journeying to Rome at the monastery of St. Mary
at Faenza, entering at last into the joy of his Lord.

But Damian was more than an exhorter of monks and an
ecclesiastical statesman. He was one of the first and greatest

25

INTRODUCTION

advocates of the regular canonical life for cathedral clergy; he
was a compassionate and understanding spiritual adviser to
laymen, and anticipated the twelfth-century spiritual writers in
his belief that all men, and not only a chosen few, could and
should aspire to that life of perfection which had previously
been regarded as the prerogative of the monk. He was the
precursor of later devotion to the Blessed Virgin and to the
Passion and Cross of Christ. He was, too, a considerable poet;
his 'Hymnus de gloria paradisi' is singularly beautiful. He was
many men in one, and sometimes we feel the conflict between
them. Darnian might well have said with Sir Thomas Browne:
'There is another man within me that is angry with me/

Yet this apparently enigmatic man, fierce fighter for his
cause and kind and tender friend and kinsman, scholarly
scorner of the world's wisdom, hermit and cardinal, passionate
ascetic, a man never sure of the love of any man, stood never-
theless on firm ground. The whole pattern of his life was
determined, from the first vivid picture which we have of him
dining with the blind beggar to his holy death, by that love of
God which led him to seek His face while still within the body
of this death. It is in his theory of the contemplative life that
apparent contradictions are resolved.

2, St. Peter Damian's Ascetical Teaching

I. THE PURPOSE OF ASCETICISM

Christian asceticism is directed to one end, the enjoyment of
the visio Dei, and the ascetic life can only be understood in
relation to this end; therefore, if Damian's ascetical teaching is
to be seen in its true light, it must be so considered. Was he a
contemplative in the tradition of Augustine and Gregory?
Were his incredible penances, his severe rule of life and his
defence of flagellation the fruit of a burning love of God and a

26

INTRODUCTION

desire for the exquisite delight of mystic union, or was he in
fact a cold, austere figure, a mere master of negative asceticism,
a masochist with an almost Manichaean hatred of the flesh, as
he has sometimes been pictured ? It was not hardness of heart
that led him to shun the delights of human society, for, as has
rightly been said, it is not the man whose senses are blunt who
makes the sternest ascetic. All his actions sprang from the
fervour of his love for God; it was this that moulded his mind
and character. He was in the truest sense a contemplative.

Dante Alighieri recognized this quality in him. The poet
spent some time at Fonte Avellana, and could not fail to imbibe
something of the spirit of its second founder. When, in the
Paradiso> Damian draws near to the poet as he beholds Jacob's
ladder, thronged with bright spirits, which stretches up from
Saturn, the latter says to him: *Io veggio ben Famor che tu
m'accene', and the saint later describes his life at Fonte Avel-
lana to Dante in the following words:

'. . . Quivi

al servigio di Dio mi fei si fermo
che pur con cibi di liquor d'ulivi
lievemente passava caldi e gieli,
contento nei pensier contemplativi.' 1

Commenting on Dante's remarks, J. P. Whitney said: 'Damian
is the type of the contemplative life which comes nearest to
God, and is therefore most useful to man. If we take this as the
centre of Damian's personality, all his activities and his writ-
ings fall into their proper place. Instead of accidental denun-
ciations of corruptions and evils, isolated comments on theo-
logical or clerical life, we have a coherent whole, a full ex-
pression of a well-ordered personality. If to most people he is
merely an ascetic, and a prophet of asceticism, he himself
valued the ascetic life as a help to contemplation, and as
necessary to ensure its perfection.'

But the best answer to the critics is Damian's own. At the
beginning of the eighth chapter of the De Perfections Mona-
1 Dante, Diviw Commedia, Paradiso, Canto xxi,
27

INTRODUCTION

chorum> he defines the purpose of the monastic life: 'Our whole
new way of life and our renunciation of the world has but one
end: rest. But a man can only come to this state of rest if he
stretches his sinews in many labours and strivings, so that
when all the clamour and disturbance is at an end the soul may
be lifted up by the grace of contemplation to search for the
very face of truth.' Who serves God, he asks, that he may
endure toil and hardship and suffer temptation? All who seek
God do so with one hope and expectation: that they may find
rest, and sleep in the joys of contemplation as though in the
arms of the lovely Rachel.

This, then, is the end of the religious life. For although
Damian does not regard the grace of contemplation as the sole
prerogative of those living the monastic life, he believes that
it is most surely attained in the cloister. Men, like the children
of Israel long ago, must go forth into the desert if they are to
see the pillar of light which is Christ; and the body of monks
has this in common with the wandering Hebrews. So he writes
to the monks of Cluny: c As a fiery light shone in the night's
darkness upon those wandering in the desert, so those who
dwell in spiritual monasteries are often lightened by the rays
of a supernal light, which dispels the darkness of fleshly
passions and bathes them in the brilliance of inward contem-
plation.' 1 The parallel is carried still further in his thought.
For him, those who literally choose the desert, who seek the
solitude of the hermitage, are putting themselves even more
surely in the way of such grace than their cenobitic brethren.
He believes that of all forms of religious life the eremitic is the
most perfect; even when he praises the spirituality of Cluny,
it is because its monks might almost be hermits. The contem-
plative must be a solitary at least in spirit; Damian holds, with
Catherine of Siena, that knowledge of the Godhead does not
come *senza 1'abitatione della cella del cuore e dell' anima
nostra'.

In what did contemplation consist for Peter Damian ? Like
all other great mystics, he desired union with God. The con-
1 Epistohe lib. vi, 5. P.L. 144, 381.
28

INTRODUCTION

templative life has been described in the following words:
'The mystics' claim has been expressed by the Christian mystics
as "the experimental perception of God's presence and being"
and especially "union with God" a union, that is to say, not
merely psychological, in conforming the will to God's will, but,
it may be said, ontological, of the soul with God, spirit with
spirit. And they declare that the experience is a momentary
foretaste of the bliss of Heaven.' 1

Certainly Damian believed that the holy man can see his
Creator while still in the body of this death, and that he can be
mystically united to Him in spiritual wedlock. He says so quite
clearly in a letter to Desiderius: 'Holy men are able to look
even now upon their Creator by the grace of contemplation/
He goes on to say that this glimpse of God is necessarily in-
complete, but this does not make the statement any the less
striking in itself. Again, writing to his beloved Empress Agnes,
he speaks of the mystical marriage of contemplation, and prays
that its grace may be vouchsafed to her: 'May Christ hold con-
verse with you; may he be your comrade and your guest . .
may he clasp you in his virginal embrace, so that in you also
the words of Isaiah may be fulfilled: "As the bridegroom
rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over thee."
Secure in his embraces may you sweetly rest, so that He may
offer as if to Himself a haven of inward peace Who vouchsafed
to suffer shipwreck for you amid the rising storms of this
world/

Like his predecessors, Damian makes use of many analogies
in an endeavour to describe the contemplative state; like them
too, he has recourse above all to two images. The first and
most frequent is that of light. That which the mystic beholds
in contemplation he calls, in various places, 'the light of
eternity', 'the light of contemplation', 'the heavenly light', 'the
splendour of inward contemplation'. He is illumined 'by the
shining rays of the Divine light'. This is the language of the
early western contemplatives; he makes no mention of rays of
Divine darkness or dark nights of the soul, but is true to
1 Cuthbert Butler, Western Mysticism, prologue.
2 9

INTRODUCTION

the tradition of what has been called Benedictine asceticism.
His second analogy has an equally long and distinguished
history. By it, the contemplative state is described as a spiritual
marriage. Two examples will suffice as illustration. The first is
again addressed to the Empress Agnes: *It remains for you to
come to the innermost sweetness of your husband (Christ), to
that delightful union of conjoined spirits'; 1 the other comes
from a letter to a fellow-bishop: 'When any holy soul is truly
joined to its Redeemer by love, then it is united with Him as
if on the bridal couch in a bond of intimate delight.' 2

His words leave no doubt that for him the vision of God is
the aim of the ascetic life. But he does not claim that this vision
is enjoyed by the contemplative still imprisoned in the bonds
of the flesh in exactly the same manner as it is by the blessed in
Heaven. Something is inevitably lacking; a magnum aliquid, as
he described it to Desiderius, to which man's spirit cannot
aspire while it remains within the corruptible body. In an
admirable and striking passage he compares the soul to a flying-
fish; with the aid of the wings of virtue it leaps from the con-
fining waters into the heavenly air of contemplation, yet must
of its nature always fall back into the sea of everyday human
life.

It must be stressed that Damian did not regard contempla-
tion as the prerogative of the intellectual. It was not an eso-
teric science, though it demanded discipline and method, but a
way of life as accessible to the simple and unlettered as to the
scholar: 'There are some simple brethren who do not know
the meaning of contemplation, and therefore cannot exert
themselves in spiritual studies; but when they make them-
selves utterly dead to the world, and strive to wear themselves
out in labours for obedience' sake, and long in all things to
obey their superiors they obtain a place very near to God.' 3
Indeed, mere worldly learning could be a hindrance rather than
a help to contemplation; certainly it was not essential. 'Who

1 opusc. 56, 6. P.L. 145, 815.

2 Epistolae lib. iv, 16. PX. 144, 333.
8 Epistolae lib. ii, 12. P,L. 144, 280.

30

INTRODUCTION

lights a lantern that he may seen the sun, or candles that he
may behold the glory of the stars ?' 2 asks Damian.

Contemplation, then, is the visio Dei here on earth; it is the
beholding of the face of truth, albeit imperfectly; it is attain-
able by all who desire it and strive for it; its root is love of
God, its stem the mortification of flesh and spirit, its fruit the
sweetness of the mystic union, its flower an all-embracing
charity. But although he maintains that it can be granted to
anyone, Damian never fails to remind us that it is a charisma,
a grace freely given, bestowed or withheld by God as He sees
fit. He speaks always of "the grace of contemplation', of 'the
things which it was given to me to behold'. Here is no Pelagian
reliance on the will and power of man; the ascetic must strive,
but he must also pray. Contemplation is a gift, not a virtue.

The preparations which the would-be contemplative must
make, the spiritual journey to that point from which he may
see, by God's grace, those things which eye has not seen, nor
ear heard and which the heart of man cannot conceive, are
described by Damian in the form of an analogy dear to all
mystical writers from St. Augustine onwards; that of the two
wives of Jacob, Leah and Rachel. He divides his comparison
into three sections. The first, represented by the first of
Jacob's periods of bondage to Laban, is the first rung of the
contemplative ladder, the destruction of vice by means of
obedience to the commandments of the Old Law; this is what
ascetical theologians describe as the purgative stage. He who
passes through it successfully hopes to come at once to the
delights of contemplation; but this cannot be. Instead of the
lovely Rachel, he must marry her elder sister Tor in the dark-
ness of human ignorance we are enjoined to be patient in
labour*. The second stage, represented by the second period of
Jacob's servitude, consists in the implanting of virtues; the
monk passes from a slavish obedience to the precepts of the
Decalogue to a free adherence to the counsels of the New
Testament; for perseverance in good works must be estab-
lished before the repose of contemplation can be granted. At

2 Opusc* 45, 8. P.L. 145, 701-2.

31

INTRODUCTION

last, after years of toil and weariness, Jacob wins Rachel; the
seeker after God is given the grace of contemplation. But he
cannot rest there in peace. Rachel is beautiful but barren; and
like Jacob the monk must continue to be fruitful in good
works. Damian makes this point even clearer when he com-
pares the contemplative to Moses going in and out of the
Temple of the Covenant: *He goes in and out of the temple to
show us that he who is inwardly rapt in contemplation is often
outwardly troubled by the affairs of the needy; within he con-
templates the hidden things of God, but outwardly he bears
the burdens of carnal things.' 1

But how far were his teachings based upon personal ex-
perience ? To those who have some knowledge of his writings
there can be no doubt that Peter Damian was a true contem-
plative. As Dom Leclercq says: 'The fervour and beauty and
freshness of his language are certain indications of personal
experience.' 2 It was the vision of God that he sought and found
in the rocky solitude of Fonte Avellana. 'I longed to cleave
with all my heart to the everlasting light. My heart then, as It
seemed, was made of wax, as that of the Lord's prophet was of
flesh; and it melted in flame under the breath of heavenly
desire, and my sorrowing countenance was often watered by
rich tears. ... I often beheld, by an immediate perception of
my mind, Christ hanging from the cross, fastened with nails,
and thirstily received His dripping blood in my mouth. But if
I were to attempt to tell you of the heights of contemplation
which were vouchsafed to me, both of our Redeemer's most
sacred humanity and of the indescribable glory of Heaven, the
day would be at an end before I had finished.' 3

It was because the burdens and racketings of life outside the
monastery, even of ecclesiastical life, shattered the spiritual
quiet so necessary to the pursuit of contemplation that Damian
partook with reluctance in the ecclesiastical politics of his day.
He was forced to accept the cardinalate thrust upon him by

1 Epistolae lib. ii, 12. P.L. 144, 282.

2 J. Leclercq, Contemplation' in Dictionnaire de Spirituality t.H
8 Opusf. 19. P.L. 145, 432.

32

INTRODUCTION

Stephen IX, but he spent the ten years after the latter's death
in trying to rid himself of his episcopal burden. He went on
papal legations when the good of the Church demanded it; he
attended many of the important synods held by Leo IX,
Nicholas II and Alexander II, but he paid the price in the loss
of that tranquillity which he so greatly prized as a means to con-
templation, and did not hesitate to point this out to those who
charged him with the affairs of the Church. It was perhaps for
this reason that the glimpses which Damian gives us of those
moments of grace when he was rapt in contemplation are rare.
But he has a great deal to say about the long and arduous
preparation for the mystical life, chiefly in the letters and
sermons addressed to his monks, and his ascetical teaching was
a vital factor in the life of his own and later generations.

2. DAMIAN'S ASCETICAL TEACHING

The ascetic life is frequently described as an ascent towards
contemplation; if we conceive of it as a ladder, we may say that
it has three rungs: the mortification of the flesh, the discipline
of the spirit, and the way of prayer. But such distinctions are,
in a sense, both arbitrary and artificial, since these stages are
not successive; they must, indeed, be simultaneous. Neither is
the ascent of the ascetical ladder in itself a guarantee that the
contemplative state will be reached; it merely brings the
aspirant to that point of departure from which God will, if He
so desires, raise him to the heights of mystic union. However,
the analogy enables us to distinguish what cannot be divided:
the different aspects of the ascetic life. Damian deals exten-
sively both with mortification, by which he means the discip-
line of the will as well as of the body, and with prayer. These
are sometimes called the negative and positive aspects of
asceticism, but the description is not altogether satisfactory,
for it may be doubted whether mortification as taught and
practised by the great contemplatives was a purely negative
thing.

The subjection of the flesh and the discipline of the will are

c 33

INTRODUCTION

fundamental to Damian's conception of the monastic life; they
are essential because, by destroying earthly desires, they enable
the monk to concentrate all his affections upon God. He sums
up the virtues of the religious life as 'fervent love of God and
mortification of self and proceeds to show that the two are
interdependent: *If those words of the Apostle "always bearing
about in our bodies the dying of the Lord Jesus" really lived
in us, all our delight would of necessity be in God, since
fleshly love would have nowhere to spread within us; our
leaping fire would burn there with Him, since it would find no
room within ourselves.' 1

The prudent man, he who is intent on his salvation, will
gird his loins with the girdle of perfect mortification; 'he
achieves this when the greedy gullet is kept in check; when the
wanton tongue is compelled to be silent; when the ears are shut
to scandalmongering; when the eyes are forbidden to look
upon unlawful things; when the hand is bound, for fear it
should strike another cruelly, and the foot, lest it should
wander idly; when the heart is withstood, for fear it should
envy the prosperity of another, or desire and covet that which
is not its own, lest it should be cut off from brotherly love by
anger, or raise itself above others in its pride, or succumb to
the delights of enticing pleasure; lest it should be too much
weighed down by grief or lay itself open to the seductions of
joy. Since, then, the human mind cannot be utterly empty, but
must always be concerned with love of something, it must be
completely surrounded by this wall of virtue; that which is not
permitted to expand in its own surroundings must necessarily
be carried above itself.'

From this passage two concepts emerge which are of the
utmost importance if Damian's ascetical doctrine is to be fully
understood. The first is the stress laid on love of one's fellows
as an essential part of spiritual discipline. This is a concept
common to all great writers; but it is emphasized here because
too many have seen in Peter Damian only a barren and inward-
turning asceticism. It is true that he repeats the invectives of
. 13, 2. PX. 145, 294.
34

INTRODUCTION

the early ascetic Fathers against the passions of greed and lust;
'sit in thy cell and restrain thy tongue and thy belly' is his
maxim, as it was theirs, but he does not consider it to be suffi-
cient in itself. We shall see later that he held that the body
should be severely disciplined; his defence of flagellations,
fastings and vigils is worthy of the master 'athletes' of the
Thebaid. It is therefore the more remarkable that here,
when discussing the essentials of the ascetic discipline, he
should be so much more concerned with the practice of virtue
than with any merely corporal penance. The monk must not
be arrogant or angry or jealous, not merely because by re-
straining evil passions he mortifies his will, but for fear he
should be cut off from the love of the brotherhood. This
emphasis on charity ennobles the whole concept of mortifica-
tion.

Secondly, this passage is a vivid demonstration of Damian' s
belief that mortification is only valid if pursued as a means to
contemplation. The human spirit must love, for loving is its
natural activity; therefore its loving must be confined within a
wall of virtue, so that it may rise only to God. There is nothing
Manichaean in this frugality, this renunciation, this castigation
of the flesh; c God forbid that we should condemn anything
which God has made', says Damian. It is a question of sur-
rendering a lesser good that we may come to possess a greater.

Besides this basic reason for the practice of mortification,
there are two others: the imitative and the penitential motives.
Suffering is good because Christ suffered; what He endured
for us we too should be prepared to undergo for His sake. In
his sermon for the Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, Damian
writes: 'Christ gave Himself to death for our sakes; let us too
mortify in ourselves all the pleasure of earthly desire for love
of Him. By undergoing death on the gibbet of the Cross He
prepared a way for us by which we could return to our native
land, that having been lured away by pleasure, we might return
embittered by weeping; that we who fell away through our
delight in unlawful things might rise again in abstaining even
from lawful things; that we who were cast down because of the

35

INTRODUCTION

arrogance of our pride might be raised up by the lowliness of
a humble life.' 1 Perfectly to imitate Christ, it is necessary to
share His pain; but life does not provide us with such pains as
these, and so we must inflict them on ourselves: this is the
ascetic premiss.

But we suffer not only in imitation of Christ, the Sinless, but
also because we deserve to suffer for our sins. To mortify the
flesh is to make some small satisfaction for the sins of the flesh.
When Peter Cerebrosus attacked Damian for exhorting the
faithful to flagellate themselves, Damian replied: C I scourge
both flesh and spirit because I know that I have offended in both
flesh and spirit.' 2 He believes that it is not enough to have
renounced sin; past sins must be atoned for.

Mortification, then, is firstly a means to contemplation,
secondly a true imitation of Christ, and thirdly an endeavour
to make amends for past misdeeds. It consists as much in the
cultivation of virtue as in the uprooting of vice. The particular
means which Damian adopted to achieve these ends are most
clearly seen in the advice which he gave to his own congrega-
tion of Fonte Avellana and in the rule of life which they
followed.

Physical discipline is for Damian an essential characteristic
of the religious life; c as it is the duty of priests to offer sacrifice
and of doctors to preach, so the task of the hermit is to rest in
fasting and silence.' 3 Fasting is the surest way of controlling
the wayward passions of the flesh: c The belly must be held in
restraint lest, when it is filled with excess of food, it should
infect the other members with vice.' Nevertheless there is need
for moderation in penitential practices if the monk is to reap
the full fruits of mortification. Damian stresses the need for
'modus et discretio', for if too heavy a burden is laid upon the
weak it will drag them down. So Damian's rules for fasting,
laid down in his treatise on the institutes of his congregation,
while they seem to us almost too severe, are not representative

1 Sermo 45. PX. 144, 299.

2 Epistolae lib. vi, 27. P.L. 144, 417.

3 Opusc. 15, 5. P.L. 145, 339.

36

INTRODUCTION

of the way of life of the more austere members; they constitute
a minimum. He lays down these rules clearly and meticulously,
first defining what he means by a fast. 'We say that those men
fast who take only bread, water and salt; if anything else is
added, then it is not a perfect fast.'

The monks fasted throughout the year as follows: from the
octave of Easter to Pentecost a strict fast was observed on four
days of the week; on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays two
meals were taken. From the octave of Pentecost to the feast
of St. John the Baptist there were five days of fasting; two
meals were still eaten on Sunday and Thursday, but on Tues-
day only one, which was delayed until three o'clock in the
afternoon. For the period from the feast of St. John to Septem-
ber 1 3th the rules were the same as for the period from Easter
to Pentecost. During the great monastic Lent, from September
to Easter, the monks fasted strictly on five days of the week;
on Thursdays they took two meals and on Sundays only one.
The only exceptions to these rules were certain great feasts
and the three octaves of Christmas, Easter and Pentecost.
Damian's severity, however, was tempered with sympathy for
human weakness; when laying down the Lenten regulations he
adds a rider: 'Saving always this: that merciful indulgence be
shown to the weaker brethren, as may seem necessary.'

The diet of the Avellanese hermits was meagre; they took
no meat, and wine was allowed only for use at the altar, or for
the sick, or for those who, having newly come from the world,
found complete abstention too great a burden. For a time,
indeed, there is evidence that Damian entirely forbade the use
of wine except for the Holy Sacrifice, but he was obliged to
restore the privilege, since many of the brethren fell sick, and
some who wished to enter the congregation were deterred by the
appalling severity of this ruling. Bread and vegetables formed
their staple diet; cheese, fish and eggs were permitted, but
many of the brethren did not take advantage of this. This
stringent abstinence from more food than was essential for the
preserving of life and health was not regarded as a withholding
from what was evil. *By this abstinence we destroy the desires

37

INTRODUCTION

of out gullets and extinguish the flames of lust; we do not
condemn anything which God has made, and God forbid that
we should.' 1

Damian regarded fasting as the foundation of physical mor-
tification. He also attached great importance to other forms of
self-inflicted corporal penance, and in particular to the use of
the discipline. Flagellation is the most controversial of ascetic
practices, and in Damian's own day it met with much opposi-
tion, both from monks like Peter Cerebrosus and from eminent
churchmen like Pope Stephen IX, the former abbot of Monte
Cassino. It is not our task to assess the relative merits of the
arguments for and against this practice, but to consider
Damian's justification of it. His case for the defence is presented
in a short tract addressed to the monks of Monte Cassino, en-
titled De Laude Flagellorum. Stephen IX had discouraged the
monks of this house from continuing the practice of public
flagellation in chapter. Peter attacked the abandonment of the
custom with all the passion and power at his command: 'Tell
me, you who in your arrogance mock at Christ's passion, you
who, in refusing to be stripped and scourged with Him, deride
His nakedness and all His torments as foolish and vain things
like the illusions which come to us in sleep, what will you do
when you see Him who was stripped in public and hung on the
Cross shining in the glory of His majesty, surrounded by the
angelic host, with His immeasurable and incomparable splen-
dour round about Him, more glorious than all things, visible
or invisible ? What, I say, will you do, when you behold Him
for whose shame you now have nothing but scorn, seated on
the fiery throne of the tribunal of Heaven, and judging the
whole human race in the dreadful judgment of His justice? By
what rash boldness of presumption do you hope to share in
His glory, whose shame and injuries you scorned to bear?' 2
He reminds his readers that the apostles did not scorn to be
scourged, describing the discipline as apostolica verbera. Since
to be scourged is to imitate Christ, and since there is now little

f. 32, pol. P.L. 145, 544.
2 Opusc. 43, 4- PX. I45 , 682-3.

INTRODUCTION

likelihood of our receiving such treatment at the hands of
others, the true follower of Christ must inflict these chastise-
ments on himself.

As a result of Damian's preaching, the practice of flagellation
spread far and wide, as he himself states in the introduction to
De Laude Flagellorum. Not only monks but the layfolk of town
and countryside took up the practice. In his own congregation
flagellation was sometimes carried to lengths that even he
could not wholeheartedly approve. He tells us of Dominicus
Loricatus, Prior of Suavicino, who would recite the whole
Psalter eight times without ceasing, lashing himself throughout.
By the end of his life his whole body was so disfigured by this
treatment that he was scarcely recognizable. Such excesses
could do nothing but harm to the reputation of the congrega-
tion, and Damian wrote to the hermits of Gamugnium warn-
ing them against exceeding the limits of good sense: 'You are
well aware, dearly beloved, that the discipline of flagellation
which you practise so fervently can be harmful if used without
discretion, just as it is profitable in moderation. Because of this
the strength of your weary bodies fails, and sometimes, as some
believe, worn out by so many blows they fall ill, especially since
some of you will recite the whole Psalter once or even twice,
scourging yourselves throughout. And so it happens that some
brethren who wish to enter the hermitage, hearing such tales,
are deterred by fear from so doing. Wherefore, showing a
measure of discretion, we have decreed that no one in the
hermitage shall be compelled to use the discipline; and if holy
zeal urges anyone to this, he is permitted to scourge himself for
the course of forty psalms, and no more, in any one day. By
doing this we are not depriving you of any good, but pruning
away what is unnecessary.' 1

Damian also recommended other practices which were com-
mon in his own congregation, such as the custom of praying
with the arms outstretched in the form of a cross, and of mak-
ing continuous genuflections while reciting the Psalter in
private; these, however, were not compulsory, being left to the
1 Epistoke lib. vi, 34. P,L. 144, 433.

39

INTRODUCTION

discretion of the individual monk: *We impose no law on the
brethren in these matters . , . for there are some to whom not
all are profitable, and so it seems safer and better that they
should be given freedom of choice/ Here once more are
revealed the consideration, humanity and moderation of this
great ascetic; it is an important and neglected facet of his
character.

These then are the instruments of mortification: fasting,
flagellation and private penance. Their end is to bring the body
into subjection and to extinguish unlawful passions. The
second stage in the ascetic's progress, which consists in soli-
tude, silence and stability, is directed to a different end: still
discipline, it is true, but a discipline of the will and of the spirit,
which will cause virtue to flourish in the soul and enable the
monk to draw nearer to God.

Of these, the most important, perhaps, to Damian is solitude.
The beautiful words of John of Fecamp concerning the solitary
life would have found an echo in his heart: 'How fair you are,
O hermitage, and how good, strewn with flowers, filled with
lilies, rich in the precious stones which are set in the city of the
Eternal King. You are a place of refreshment for Christ's poor,
the dwelling-place of the lovers of God, healing shade to those
who flee from the heat of this world, a place of green pasture,
where the wild ass who despises cities lies and the deer of the
mountain-peaks feed. Indeed, my heart loves you and my soul
greatly desires your beauty.' 1 These words are a clear illustra-
tion of that passion for the solitary life which filled the minds
of so many holy men in the eleventh century, and was the
driving force of the eremitic movement which swept over
northern Italy. This movement had for its founders St.
Romuald and St. Nilus of Rossano; in Peter Damian it found
its champion.

For Damian stood in something of the same relation to the
eremitic movement of his day as did St. Bernard to the early
Cistercians; he gave it prestige and direction; he attracted many

1 John of Fecamp, Deploratio qufetis et solitudims deretictae. Ed. J. P. Bonnes and
J. Leclercq, mjean de F&amp. Un maftre de la vie spiritttelk au Xle stick Paris, 1946.

40

INTRODUCTION

disciples to its ranks; and his personal holiness drew attention
to the way of life in which his spirituality was rooted. It is
because he diverged from the main stream of western spiritu-
ality, turning away from the Benedictine tradition as it had
developed, and seeking the sources of his ideal in the desert,
that he was one of the most important figures in the sphere of
contemporary monasticism. It has rightly been said that it is
above all in his quality as a monk, and because of the eremitic
ideal which he never ceased to proclaim., that he was one of the
initiators of the Gregorian reform. 1

Damian argued, with considerable force, that St. Benedict
himself believed the eremitic life to be the most perfect, and
had written his rule for cenobites as a sort of training manual
for beginners. The saint, he maintained, not only did not
forbid monks to leave their communities for the rigours of
the desert; he actually urged them to do so. Whether or not
this is a true interpretation of St. Benedict's thought, it was
certainly a break with the Benedictine tradition as it had grown
up in the West throughout the centuries. Damian admitted
that it might be a good and pleasant thing for brothers to
dwell together in unity; but it was a higher and holier thing to
live in solitude, to shun the delights and distractions of life in
society. The Regula Monachorum he compared to a great house
which shelters many, young and old, rich and poor, strong and
weak; but the monk must never forget the existence of a more
perfect way of life, the higher and broader pastures of Cassian
and the Desert Fathers.

His position in this matter is sharply defined in a passage
from his treatise on the customs of his congregation: 'There
are many ways which lead to God; there are divers orders in
the community of the faithful; but of all these no way is so
straight, so sure, so swift, so free of obstacles as this (i.e. the
eremitic) for it removes almost all the occasions of sin and
directs us to an increase of those virtues which please God; so
that it destroys the power of sinning and imposes by force of

1 J. Leclercq, *Une lettre inedite de S. Pierre Damien* in StudiA Anselmiana^
fasc. 18-19, 1947.

41

INTRODUCTION

necessity perseverance in good works.' 1 Uncompromisingly,
unambiguously he states Ms premiss; the solitary life is most
perfect, not because it is the hardest but because it is the surest
way to God. The lax state of many of the monasteries of his
day can only have confirmed him in his opinions; some were so
degenerate that he even says that it is better to receive laymen
straight from the world into the hermitage than to send them
first to a monastery for a period of training, since those who
come from monasteries are often more degraded than those
who come from the world. This was doubtless an extreme
view, induced by disgust at the debauched living of a few in-
dividuals; nevertheless, not even the knowledge of the ceno-
bitic life at its best, as lived at Cluny under the direction of the
saintly Abbot Hugh, could alter his belief that true perfection
is the prerogative of the solitary. The monastic life, however
well lived, is not to be preferred to the eremitic: Tor indeed
that is good, but this is better. And to descend from what is
better to what is good is to fall from the heights to the depths,
to turn one's back on the right path, to sink from spiritual zeal
into a harmful lukewarmness, and thus to fall, bit by bit,
from the peaks into the abyss.' 2

To Damian, the life lived in community is a training-ground;
here the novice takes his first steps along the road to perfec-
tion; here he studies the rudiments of the science of contem-
plation; here he learns to handle the weapons which he will
later use in single combat with the demons. 'To him who is
aiming at the heights of perfection the monastery is a stage,
not a dwelling-place, a hostel and not a home, not the end of
his striving but a resting-place on the way. . . . Here he submits
himself for a time to the discipline of regular obedience; his
life in the monastery is only a preparation for the desert.' 3 This
is no Basilian concept of the value of the community life as
such; while the communal life is good, the solitary life is better.
Not that the hermit disdains the bonds of charity; but for him

1 Oputff. 15, i. P.L. 145, 537.

2 Opusc. 14. P.L. 145, 334.

8 Eptstolae lib. vi, 12. P.L. 144, 393.

4*

INTRODUCTION

they consist more in prayer for the brethren whom he cannot
see, in the prayer which unites him to the body of the Church,
than in the active service of his neighbour or the common life.

For again and again we return to the well-spring of Damian* s
teaching: the aim of the religious life is contemplation of the
Godhead. And since this cannot be achieved without freedom
from the cares and distractions of the world it is best that the
would-be contemplative should cut himself off from the society
of his fellows. Damian is not unaware of the dangers inherent
in such a way of life; he warns his disciples about the perils
threatening the unchecked will: 'Above all., he must beware of
this: that he does not cast off the yoke of obedience under the
pretence of living the eremitic life; rather he must be the more
closely bound by the law of obedience since he knows that his
way of life excels the rule of the cenobites. ... In order that
our withdrawal and suffering may be fruitful, they must be
seasoned with the health-giving salt of obedience; whatever
branches of good work our lives may send forth, obedience
must always lie at the root/ He exhorts his hermits to fraternal
charity; they must always welcome their brethren with joy.
But the incidental stumbling-blocks which the hermit may
encounter are as nothing to the dangers he leaves behind him
in the world; and in the hermitage he finds a school of heavenly
doctrine, a paradise of delight, a garden of all the virtues.

Here then we have the coping-stone of the structure of
Damian' s ascetical thought: the eremitic ideal. This was the
mould in which he cast the common substance of the Christian
traditions of the West, and from which he produced his dis-
tinctive contribution to eleventh-century spirituality. He was
neither the first nor the last to sing the praises of solitude; he
was not even the originator of the contemporary movement;
but he was its mouthpiece and its figurehead.

The solitary life, however, was in itself no guarantee of
spiritual perfection, and Damian does not fail to stress other
aspects of spiritual discipline: silence and stability. Silence is
enjoined, not so much as an act of penance, as because idle
conversation distracts the soul and prevents it from concen-

43

INTRODUCTION

trating upon the things of the spirit. 'We hold our tongues in
check because if they are undisciplined they empty the soul of
the strength of heavenly grace, and weaken its healthful
vigour/ 1 Unnecessary conversation is a prime cause of spiritual
ruin, for the weaker brethren, under the pretence of a need for
spiritual advice, will visit one another's cells and soon pass
from spiritual matters to vain and idle chatter, whence it is but
a step to worldliness, slander and detraction. A merely physical
silence is not, however, sufficient; interior tranquillity is neces-
sary if the ascetic is to attain to the vision of God. This inner
silence is the fruit of a well-led life; he who pursues the way of
true mortification, who takes up the cross of Christ, will no
longer enjoy frivolous gossip; instead, he will rejoice in psalms,
hymns and spiritual songs, and will seek a hiding-place far
removed from his fellows; he will shun the cloisters of the
monastery as he would the public market, and, that he may the
more easily stand in the presence of his Creator, will avoid all
human contact, as far as that is possible. The watchword of
the contemplative is 'Be still, and know that I am God.*

Stability is as important as silence. Sede in cetta tua\ instability
is a disease, the morbus vagationis, or inquietude, as he calls it.
Its unhappy victims lose the fruits both of the active and of
the contemplative lives; they endeavour to disguise their faults
under the cloak of obedience, and their wanderings in the
world make it harder than ever for them to reap the advantages
of the monastic life. c To the wanderer his cell is a prison; but
to those who remain there steadfastly it is a sweet resting-place;
to the monk who perseveres silence brings wakefulness, but
to him who returns from outside it causes sleepiness; abstinence
strengthens the body of the man accustomed to fasting, but
rich food weakens it.' 2 The man who remains perpetually in his
cell makes of his whole body a tongue to sing the praises of
stability. Of all ihegyrovagi a wandering hermit is the most dis-
pleasing to Damian; stability is especially necessary for the
solitary. He even deplores restless pacing up and down within

1 Opusc. 15, 5.

2 Opttsc. 12, 25. P.L. 145, 278.

44

INTRODUCTION

the cell, since such a habit is a symptom of inner instability.
He himself was prevented by the calls made upon him from
fulfilling his own precepts concerning this important aspect of
monastic discipline, but one has only to read the moving
accounts of the joy which filled him when he returned to Fonte
Avellana after weary journeys on papal business to realize that
he truly desired that stability which he recommended to others:
'Just as an invalid who goes into a room full of spices and
herbs sets aside the weariness of his complaint and begins to
feel better even before he has taken any medicine, so I, as soon
as I cross the threshold of my cell, before I have opened a
single book, feel well and safe, thank God, by the virtue of
that place, and the wounds of my spirit are healed.' 1

The third stage in the ascent of the soul towards God is that
of prayer. For Peter Damian prayer was not only the royal road
to contemplation; it was the prime duty of every Christian. In
a short treatise on the canonical hours he remarks: 'Dearly
beloved, do not regard this labour of Christian service as an
offering; it is a duty. It is a matter of necessity, not of free
choice. As you profess yourself a Christian, as you sign your-
self with the sign of the Cross, as you never let a day go by
without invoking the Lord's name, so do not presume to omit
this for any reason whatever.' 2 He stresses the importance of
both public and private prayer, and agrees with St. Benedict
that nothing is to be preferred to the Opus Dei. For the
trumpet-call of the Gospel summons us to continual prayer,
and while the whole life of a just man is a prayer, those who
are weak can be sure that they have fulfilled the evangelical
command if they recite the Divine Office daily.

Public prayer was an essential element in the life of the
Avellanese congregation; part of this quasi-eremitic community
sang the office in choir just as its cenobitic brethren did.
Damian compares the procession of monks going to the church
in order to perform the Opus Dei to the army of Christ; c We
go forth as an army to the battle when we hasten to the church

1 Epistoke lib. vi, 5. P.L. 144, 379.
8 Opust. 10, 7. P.L. 145, 229.

45

INTRODUCTION

to recite the Psalter or to pray. For there the princes of dark-
ness wage fierce war against us, trying to distract our wander-
ing minds from the words we are saying by illusions of the
imagination. And what a splendid host it is, especially at night,
when the brethren form their ranks as if aroused by the sound
of the trumpet, and hastening like an ordered army march
together to the arena of the divine battle.' 1

Damian also reminded his brethren of the perennial truth
that he who prays in solitude does not pray alone; the whole
Church of Christ prays with and in him. 'The Church of Christ
is united in all its parts by such a bond of love that her several
members form a single body, and in each one the whole Church
is mystically present. ... If, therefore, those who believe in
Christ are one, then wherever we find a member according to
outward appearances, there, by the mystery of the sacrament,
the whole body is present.' 2

Concerning private prayer as such Damian has little that is
specific to say. There can, however, be no doubt that he
attached great importance to its place in the vita contemplative,
certainly he stressed the importance of purity of heart and
tears of compunction when praying. A donkey, he says, pro-
duces only an ugly braying when alive; after it is dead, how-
ever, parts of its body are used to make instruments which
produce sweet music; likewise, a man must be dead to sin
before he can pray well.

While his teaching on prayer in general is implicit rather than
explicit, his doctrine concerning tears of compunction has been
described as richer than that of any western writer who pre-
cedes him. Tray to God with tears daily' is his counsel to those
seeking perfection. And he develops this advice: 'The moisture
of tears cleanses the soul from all stain and makes fertile the
fields of the heart so that they may bring forth the seeds of
virtue. . . . The tears which come from God approach the
judgment seat of the divine mercy with perfect confidence, and
obtaining at once what they ask, are assured of the certain

1 Opusc. 13, 17. P.L. 145, 316.
* Opusc. n, 5-6. P.L. 145, 235-6.

INTRODUCTION

forgiveness of our sins. Tears are the trustees in the making of
peace between God and man, and true and wise masters amid
the doublings of human ignorance. For if we are wondering
whether or not we are pleasing to God, no better guarantee
can be given us than that we pray with genuine tears/ 1 He
praises tears, too, as a means to contemplation: *O tears of
spiritual joy, better than honey or the honeycomb, and sweeter
than any nectar! you who renew minds lifted up to God with
the pleasant sweetness of an inward savour, and water dry and
wasting hearts at their very core with the stream of heavenly
grace! For the sweetness and savour of earthly banquets delight
the palates of those who eat them, yet do not penetrate to their
inmost parts; but the savour of divine contemplation wholly
fills us inwardly, and there quickens and sweetens us.' 2 It was
axiomatic with all the great contemplatives that they that sow
in tears shall reap in joy; Damian follows the purest tradition.
Damian* s doctrine of prayer, then, is one with that of Bene-
dict and Cassian; he regarded it as a chief means to contempla-
tion. Dom Berliere has admirably summed up the attitude of
the early western contemplatives to prayer: 'When the ancient
writers speak of prayer, they are careful to distinguish it from
meditation which they consider to be the normal preparation
for prayer; in the same way, they unite it with contemplation,
which is for them the normal and usual end of prayer/ 3

3. THE SOURCES OF DAMIAN* S ASCETICAL THOUGHT

In the writings of Peter Damian and in the spirituality which
they reveal we can trace three sources of influence. The first,
as we might expect, is that of St. Paul and of the western
fathers, Augustine, Jerome and Gregory. The second is that of
the monastic writers, Benedict, Basil and Cassian. The third is
that of St. Romuald. There may possibly be a fourth: the
influence of contemporary Byzantine spirituality. There is no

1 Opusc. 13, 12. P.L. 145, 308.

2 Ibid., 309.

8 U. Betltere, UAtefa BtnSMctine> c. 7.

47

INTRODUCTION

written evidence to support such a conjecture; nevertheless
the facts suggest at least a consensus of possibilities. There are
parallels between the general organization of an Avellanese or
Camaldolese house, with its monastery and hermitage set side
by side and mutually dependent, and contemporary Greek
monachism as described by Nicetas Stethatos in his Life of
Sjmeon the New Theologian. There is the fact that Damian, who
made frequent visits to Rome and had close contacts with
Monte Cassino, cannot have been ignorant of the work of
Nilus of Rossano. Again, the ties between Italy and Constan-
tinople, though frequently irritating to both parties, were still
strong in Damian' s lifetime.

An early library catalogue of Fonte Avellana gives us some
idea of the writings of the Fathers and of others which were
available to Damian. It lists, among others, the following
works:

1. Gregory the Great: The Moralia, the Commentary on
E^echiel, the Commentary on the Book of Kings, the Dialogues, the
Homilies and the Pastoral Care.

2. St. Augustine: Super Genesim ad litter am, Liber Questionum
et Locutionum Veteris Testamenti, De Bono Conjugio, the Dialogue
of the Soul, On Christian Doctrine, On the Trinity, the Confessions,
On the Psalms, On Faith and Works, the City of God, On the

Joannine Epistles, The Work of Monks, Against Faustus, Letters,
etc.

3. St. Ambrose: Hexameron, On the Three Patriarchs, Of Faith
and Grace, On the Epistle to the Romans, On the Epistle to the
Corinthians, On St. Luke's Gospel, Of the Sacraments, the Beati
Immaculati, the Letters and De Officiis.

4. St. Jerome: Letters, On Famous Men, On the Ten Prophets,
the Lives of the Fathers, De quaestionibus hebraicis, On the Psalms,
On E^echiel, Treatise on Isaiah, On St. Mark's Gospel.

5. Origen: On Genesis, On Leviticus, Treatise on the Psalms,
Commentary on St. Matthew's Gospel.

Other works included in the catalogue are the Collations of
Cassian, the Book of Sentences, Burchard's Liber Canonum,
Hilary on the Psalms, Amalarius's De Officiis, Bede's com-

48

INTRODUCTION

mentaty on the canonical epistles, a book containing the rules
of SS. Augustine, Basil, Jerome and Pachomius, a volume of
sermons by Gregory Nazianzen, the letters of St. Cyril,
Smaragdus's Diadema Monachorum, and the Rule of St. Benedict.
There are also several historical works (Jordanus, Eusebius,
etc.), copies of the Scriptures, Psalters and other manuscripts.

It is likely that the Avellanese library contained many of
these manuscripts when Damian was alive, as he himself tells
us of the trouble which he went to in order to increase the
number of books in the scriptorium. Certainly he quotes from
several of them in his work; for example, from the Moralia,
Dialogues, Homilies and the Pastoral Care of St. Gregory; from
the De Trinitate, the City of God, the Commentary on the Psalms,
the Commentary on St. John's Epistles and the De Opere Mona-
chorum of St. Augustine; from St. Ambrose's Faith and Grace;
from the Commentary on the Prophets and the De quaestionibus
hebraicis of St. Jerome; from the letters of St. Cyril and from
Paschasius's treatise De Corpore Domini.

But he also cites texts and authors not included in the cata-
logue to name but a few, the Contra Crescentius of St. Augus-
tine, the Adversusjovinianum of Jerome, the Register of Gregory
the Great, St. Athanasius's Contra Arium, St. Ambrose's De
Obitu Theodosii, the letters of Leo the Great and the Institutes of
Justinian. From this we must conclude either that the twelfth-
century catalogue was incomplete (which is unlikely) or that
Damian had access to libraries other than his own. We know
that he was a welcome guest at many of the great monastic
houses of his day, and especially at Monte Cassino, and we
know from the Chronicon Cassinense how the scriptorium of that
monastery throve under the rule of Damian's friend Desiderius.
It may have been here, for example, that Damian had access to
the Institutes of Justinian and the Register of Leo the Great, for
copies of both these works were made at Monte Cassino during
Desiderius's abbacy.

It is now possible to consider in closer detail the sources of
Damian's ascetical theology. Naturally, he quotes extensively
from the Scriptures in his writings (too extensively, in fact);

D 49

INTRODUCTION

and chiefly from the Old Testament, which provided a mine of
material for the analogy and exposition in which he rejoiced,
and the Pauline epistles. But these are the common inheritance
of Christendom, the foundation upon which the whole
structure of Christian thought is built. Who are the authors
whose writings and teachings gave to his thought its special
cast?

In endeavouring to answer this question one is hampered by
the fact that Damian quotes remarkably rarely (or rather., that
his quotations are often indirect and unacknowledged). He
cites only occasionally the ipsissima verba of the Fathers.
Nevertheless, a mere cursory glance through his writings
throws some light on the problem of his sources. Of the
identified quotations, the majority come from the writings of
Augustine, Gregory and Jerome, and the honours are fairly
equally divided between them. That is what one might expect
from an eleventh-century author; while it does not altogether
explain Damian's preoccupation with the solitary life and the
spirituality of the desert, it is certain that in the western
Fathers, and particularly in the traditions of St. Augustine and
St. Gregory, Damian found the root of his ascetical thought.
His theory of the contemplative life is derived directly from
these two great men; when Peter Damian speaks of the active
and contemplative lives under the figures of Martha and Mary,
or of Leah and Rachel, when he speaks of contemplating the
Highest Truth, of the soul illumined by the rays of divine
light, he is expressing ideas and beliefs in which Augustine
and Gregory would have concurred, in words which would
not have been out of place on their lips. At heart, Damian is a
traditionalist.

Why, then, did this orthodox and holy man reject the
orthodox and conventional religious life of his day? The
answer is twofold. In the first place, many of the monasteries
of his day were hopelessly lax, even when they were not
altogether corrupt; they had not yet been cleansed and changed
by that great tide which swept out from Cluny and transformed
the Benedictine ideal. In the second place, the new eremitic

50

INTRODUCTION

movement which St. Romuald had done so much to propagate
In North Italy fired his imagination. Yet he was not aware of
having parted from the mainstream of Benedictine spirituality;
he believed that he was simply carrying out to the fullest the
implications of the Regula Monacborum; and St. Benedict is the
only man to whom he gives the title 'beatus pater noster'. It is
clear that he considered himself and his hermits as part of the
great Benedictine family; and indeed his debt to St. Benedict
is great, and much of the life and organization of his congrega-
tion adhered closely to the prescriptions of the Rule.

But in its essence the solitude, the fierce austerity his
ascetic ideal contained much of the violence and severity which
had characterized the first beginnings of monasticism in the
deserts of Egypt and Syria. It is therefore not surprising that
Damian should have found much in the writings of Jerome
and Cassian, and in the lives and sayings of the Desert Fathers,
to attract him. Here was contrast with the degenerate mona-
chism of his day, as he did not fail to point out. An Antony
would stand no chance of election as abbot in an eleventh-
century monastery, he says; virtuous and austere living is no
longer an acceptable qualification for that office. He beseeches
his hermits to imitate their holy father Antony in the rigour of
their fasting, the strictness of their silence, the vileness of their
clothing. He commends the self-inflicted penances of Macarius.
Above all, he exhorts them continually to read the pages of
Cassian, where they will find a worthy rule of life. And in the
treatise on the perfection of monks he uses St. Benedict's own
words to encourage them to follow the traditions of the
Desert.

'The farmer wiU be disappointed if, before he has laboured
in the sowing of his seed, he seeks to reap the harvest; for it is
certain that he who wishes to gather in the grain must first
root out the bushes and briers. And the voice of God truly
says to sinful man "Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to
thee"; this earth, if it is to produce a rich harvest, must first
endure the hoe and the ploughshare, so that having been cul-
tivated by many afflictions and by the discipline of perfect

5*

INTRODUCTION

mortification it may be made beautiful with an abundance of
all the virtues. . . . Joshua figuratively urged the sons of Joseph
to this work of husbandry by saying to them, when they were
complaining of the slenderness of their portion: "If thou be a
great people, then get thee up to the wood country, and cut
down for thyself there in the land of the Perizzites and of the
giants, if Mount Ephraim be too narrow for thee." Now . . .
he who has decided to be content with the Rule of the blessed
Benedict alone has confined himself within the narrow territory
of Mount Ephraim. But listen, and hear how the new Joshua
urges you to the heights, and commands you to make haste
towards a wider inheritance: "We have written this rule in
order that, by observing it, we may show ourselves to have
some degree of goodness of life, and a beginning of holiness."
This is Mount Ephraim. But because he considers this portion
to be a narrow one, he immediately goes beyond it to higher
and broader things: "But for him who would hasten to the
perfection of religion there are the teachings of the Holy
Fathers . . . the Conferences and the Institutes." ?1

Here then are the two streams which met and mingled in the
spirit of Peter Damian: the noble and balanced thought of
Augustine and Gregory, and the voices crying in the wilder-
ness Cassian, Jerome, Palladius. From the content of the two
traditions he forged his unique contribution to eleventh-
century spirituality. And it was an important contribution, both
in itself and in relation to him. It explains at once his ardent
support of the cause of the Roman Church and his free criti-
cism of her rulers; his eminence and his utter lack of ambition
(one of the most estimable of his many attractive qualities); it
makes straight the sometimes apparently tortuous ways of his
thought. Above all, it justifies the tide given to him by the
Church in the office of his feast:

O lumen sanctae ecclesiae
Doctor beate Petre!

13, 3. P.L. 145, 295.

THE ELEVENTH TREATISE OF
ST. PETER DAMIAN

The Book of 'The Lord Be With You'

To the lord Leo, who, for love of divine liberty, has become a
recluse, from Peter the sinful monk, his servant and son.

You know well, most dear father, that I do not regard you
just as a colleague or a friend, but as a father, a teacher, a
master, a lord, and one who is dearer to me than any other; it is
to your prayers that I look to gain me a hearing from the merci-
ful God, and a place in Heaven. What more shall I say? I have
always held you to be my guardian angel, and the advice which
you have given me in any doubtful matter which was causing
me hesitation and difficulty has been accepted as if it had been
proclaimed by a messenger from Heaven. So, whenever a crisis
of conscience or thought seizes me, before coming to consult
you, I beseech the Lord in His mercy to make you the instru-
ment of His will, that through your lips He may decree the
course I must take. Now, following my usual custom, I seek to
learn from you the answer to a question which many inquirers
have asked of me.

Many of the brethren, followers of the eremitic life, have
asked me whether, since they live alone in their cells, it is right
for them to say Dominus vobiscum,>Jube> domne, benedicere, and the
like; and whether, despite the fact that they are by themselves,
they should say the responses, as the custom of the Church
demands. Some of them argue the matter within themselves in
this way: 'Are we to ask a blessing of the stones and furnishings
of our cells, or say to them, "The Lord be with you?" ' Others
fear that if they depart in any way from the prescribed order of
the Church they are guilty of sin, in so far as they are diminish-

53

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOIT

ing thek duty of divine service. And when they come to me
for a solution, my foolish wit is driven to make inquiry. Since,
then, these difficulties hem me in, I fly to you along the well-
worn path which leads to the spring, not of Ciceronian elo-
quence, but of Divine wisdom.

CHAPTER ONE

I spurn Plato, the searcher into the hidden things of nature,
who set a measure to the movements of the planets, and cal-
culated the courses of the stars; Pythagoras, who divided the
round world into its regions with his mathematician's rod,
means nothing to me; I renounce the much-thumbed books of
Nichomachus, and Euclid too, round-shouldered from pouring
over his complex geometrical problems; the rhetoricians with
their syllogisms and the cavillings of the sophists are useless in
this matter. Let the gymnasts shiver in their nakedness for love of
wisdom, and the peripatetics seek truth at the bottom of a well.

For I seek from you the Highest Truth, not that which lies
ignobly hidden in a well, but that which rose from the earth,
and, made manifest to all the world, reigns in eternal majesty in
Heaven. What are the inventions of crazy poets to me ? What
do I care for the melodramatic adventures of pompous traged-
ians ? Let the comedians put an end to the poisoned stream of
scurrilities flowing from thek noisy lips, and the satirists cease
to burden their audiences with bitter banquets of insidious
slander. The Ciceronians shall not sway me with thek smooth
speech, nor the followers of Demosthenes convince me by
skilled argument or captious persuasion. Back to your shades,
you whom worldly wisdom has defiled! Those blinded by the
sulphurous flames of the teachings of darkness can give me
nothing. Let the simplicity of Christ instruct me, and the true
humility of the wise loose me from the chains of doubt. For, as
St. Paul says: 'When God showed us His wisdom, the world,
with all its wisdom, could not find its way to God; and now
God would use a foolish thing, our preaching, to save those
who will believe in it*

54

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

Away, then, with the letter which kills; let the life-giving
spirit come to our aid. For the wisdom of the flesh brings
death, but that of the spirit brings life and peace, since the
wisdom of the flesh is the enemy of God; it is not subject to
God's law, nor can it be. And since the wisdom of the flesh is
unable to bear the yoke of God's law, it cannot look upon it
either, for its eyes are clouded with the smoke of pride. Loosen
this knot for me, father, and do not suffer the disciple of
Christ's lowliness to be deceived by the mouthings of proud
philosophers. Teach me that of which the unskilled throng of
dialecticians knows nothing; let wise folly tell me that which
foolish wisdom cannot understand.

CHAPTER Two

But perhaps you will ask me first to propound my own
solution, and give me your judgment afterwards, as do the
masters in the schools, who first ask their pupils' opinion
concerning a particular problem in the proposition under dis-
cussion, so that by drawing them out they may discover their
abilities. At your command I will tell you what I think of this
problem, so that by your authority I may be corrected if I am
mistaken, or have my opinion confirmed if I am right. It is not
irrelevant to try to point out the origins of these liturgical
customs before we endeavour, by God's grace, to give an
answer to these questions of the brethren. The man who is
to read the gospel is so humble that he does not ask to be
blessed by the priest but by whomever the priest may appoint,
saying: Tray, lord, a blessing.' But the priest, to show an
equal humility, does not delegate the task of blessing to any
of his ministers; he does not even presume to give the blessing;
but he asks that God, who is above all things, may bestow a
blessing.

CHAPTER THREE

The phrase Dominus vobiscum is the priest's greeting to the

55

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

people; he prays that the Lord may be with them, in accord-
ance with the words spoken by the Prophet: 'I shall dwell
within them*, and with those spoken by our Saviour to His
disciples and all the faithful: 'Behold, I am with you/ This
form of greeting, then, is no mere innovation instituted by
human authority; it has the sanction of the ancient authority of
the Scriptures, Anyone who examines the holy writings care-
fully will find many examples of its use, both in the singular
and the plural. Did not the angel say to the blessed Mother of
God: e The Lord is with thee' ? And to Gideon likewise: 'The
Lord is with thee, thou mightiest of men' ? In the book of
Ruth, too, we read that Boaz greeted his harvesters with the
words: 'The Lord be with you.' And in the Book of Chronicles
we find that the prophet sent by God hailed Asa King of Juda
and his army as they were returning in triumph from battle
with these words: 'The Lord be with you, for you were with
the Lord/

When the Church receives the salutary greeting of the priest,
she greets him in return, and in doing so prays that, as he has
desired that the Lord may be with them, so He may deign to
be with him. 'And with thy spirit', she replies, meaning: 'May
almighty God be with your soul, so that you may worthily
pray to Him for our salvation/ Notice that she says not 'with
thee', but 'with thy spirit'; this is to remind us that all things
concerned with the services of the Church must be performed
in a spiritual manner. And certainly God must prefer to be
with a man's spirit, for it is the soul of a reasonable man that
is made in God's image and likeness; it alone is capable of
receiving divine grace and illumination.

And the greeting which the bishop gives his people: 'Peace
be with you' or 'Peace to you', also has its roots in the authority
of Holy Writ, and is not just the product of man's mind. For
we read in the Old Testament that the angel said to Daniel
'Peace be to you'; and in the New Testament the Lord almost
always greets His disciples with the words 'Peace to you/ And
He commended the same form of greeting to His disciples,
saying: 'Into whatsoever house you shall enter, salute it, saying:

56

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU 5

"Peace to this house." Jl So it is fitting that the rulers of the
Church, who are the successors of the Apostles, should use
this form of greeting; for they salute the household of God in
which it is right that all men should be the sons of peace, so
that the greeting of peace which rests upon them may be
advantageous both to the givers of the greeting and to its
receivers.

CHAPTER FOUR

Now it is clear from the premisses which I have stated that
just as the prophetic writings, the poetry of the psalms and the
grace of the gospel have been handed down to us by divine
inspiration, so the phrase c The Lord be with you' comes down
to us not through any human choosing, but by the authority
of the Old and New Testaments. We do not take away from or
add to the authority of the Holy Scriptures because of changing
circumstances, because the customs of the Church are preserved
in them; so it is wrong for any reason whatever to utter this
priestly greeting sometimes and to pass it over in silence at
others; for it is unlawful to alter the established custom of the
Church even if not more than one person is present.

CHAPTER FIVE

Indeed, the Church of Christ is united in all her parts by
such a bond of love that her several members form a single
body and in each one the whole Church is mystically present;
so that the whole Church universal may rightly be called the
one bride of Christ, and on the other hand every single soul
can, because of the mystical effect of the sacrament, be regarded
as the whole Church. Certainly Isaac with his prophetic nos-
trils could detect the presence of the whole Church when he
said concerning one of his sons: 'See, the smeU of my son is as
the smell of a field/ 2 And that widow who was in debt and who
at Elisha's command scattered her too small quantity of oil

1 Matt, x, 12. 2 Gen. xxvii, 27.

57

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

like seed and soon reaped a rich harvest when it overflowed her
vessels was undoubtedly a symbol of the Church.

If we look carefully through the fields of the Holy Scrip-
tures we will find that one man or one woman often represents
the Church. For though because of the multitude of her
peoples the Church seems to be of many parts, yet she is never-
theless one and simple in the mystical unity of one faith and
one divine baptism. And although the seven women had a
single husband, 1 a single virgin was said to be espoused to the
heavenly bridegroom. Of her the apostle says: "I have espoused
you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin
to Christ.' 2

Now it can be clearly deduced from all this, as I said before,
that since the whole Church is represented in the person of one
man, and because of this is called a single virgin, holy Church
is one in all her members, and complete in each of them; her
many members form a single whole in the unity of faith, and
her many parts are united in each member by the bond of
charity and the various gifts of grace, since all of these proceed
from one source.

CHAPTER Six

For indeed, although holy Church is divided in the multi-
plicity of her members, yet she is fused into unity by the fire
of the Holy Spirit; and so even if she seems, as far as her
situation in the world is concerned, to be scattered, yet the
mystery of her inward unity can never be marred in its integ-
rity. 'The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy
Ghost which is given unto us.' 3 This Spirit Is indeed without
doubt both one and manifold; one in the essence of His great-
ness, and manifold in the diverse gifts of His grace, and He
gives to holy Church, which He fills, this power: that all her
parts shall form a single whole, and that each part shall contain
the whole. This mystery of undivided unity was asked for by
Truth Himself when He said to His Father concerning His

1 Isa, iv, i. 2 2 Cor. xi, 2. 3 Rom. v, 5.

58

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

disciples: *I do not pray for these alone, but for them also who
shall believe in Me through their word; that they may all be
one; as Thou, Father, art in Me and I in Thee, that they also
may be one in us: that "the world may believe that Thou hast
sent Me. And the glory which Thou gavest Me I have given
them; that they may be one, even as we are one.' 1

If, therefore, those who believe in Christ are one, then
wherever we find a member according to outward appearances,
there, by the mystery of the sacrament, the whole body is
present. And so whatever belongs to the whole applies in some
measure to the part; so that there is no absurdity in one man
saying by himself anything which the body of the Church as a
whole may utter, and in the same way many may fittingly give
voice to that which is properly said by one person. Hence,
when we are all assembled together we can rightly say: TBow
down thine ear O Lord and hear me: for I am poor and needy.
Preserve my soul, for I am holy.' 2 And when we are by our-
selves, there is no incongruity in our singing: 'Sing aloud unto
God our strength: make a joyful noise unto the God of
Jacob.' 3 And it is not irrelevant that many of us say together:
'I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually
be in my mouth'; 4 or that often when we are alone we sing
with many tongues: *O magnify the Lord with me, and let us
exalt his name together' 5 and other things of this kind. For on
the one hand the solitariness of a single person does no harm
to the words of many; and on the other the vast number of the
faithful does not prejudice their unity since by the power of
the Holy Spirit who is in each of us and fills the whole our
solitude is manifold and our multiplicity singular.

CHAPTER SEVEN

But now let those who say 'Are we to ask a blessing of the
stones and planks of our cells, or ask that the Lord be with
them?' tell me why, when they are alone in their cells they say:

1 John xvii, 20-22. 2 Ps. Ixxxvi, 1-2. 8 Ps. Ixxxi, i.

4 Ps. xxxiv, x. 6 Ibid., 3.

59

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

C O come, let us sing unto the Lord/ 1 pray you tell me, brothers,
if I may speak with your good leave, whom do you exhort?
Whom do you summon to the night-office of divine praise
when you say 'Come let us sing unto the Lord 5 or c Come let
us adore the Lord King of martyrs' ? These verses are called
invitatories because by their means the congregation of the
faithful is summoned to give praise to God. If then there is
really no one to hear you, whom do you urge to sing to the
Lord by these words of exhortation ?

Come, I say, brethren and tell me whether you are not con-
cerned with the mystery of the unity of the Church but rather
with the number of those present in the flesh when you say:
'Arising in the night let us all keep watch' or 'Our limbs being
rested by sleep, let us arise swiftly/ Why do you not either
pass over in silence or put into the singular number all those
hymns and prayers which the holy fathers composed in the
plural ?

Since you consider it wrong to ask or to give a blessing
when there is no one else present, why, when you come to the
lessons, do you read the homilies of the Fathers and the ser-
mons of preachers, which by the very nature of the act of
reading appear to be addressed to the people; so that all your
words are directed, as it seems, to another person or to an
audience. To take the very words of these homilies, to whom,
may I ask, do you say: 'Listen, dearly beloved brethren* and
so on, when no brethren are present ? If you wish to adapt all
these things by means of your protesting pen to your soli-
tary state, you will find that it is impossible; and so you will
have to leave them out and new ones will have to be composed
for you. Why, when you come to the prayers, do you say 'Let
us pray' when there is no one there to pray with you ? If you
can see no one, whom are you summoning to share in your
prayer? Why when you have finished reciting the office do
you follow the custom of saying: 'Let us bless the Lord' when
there is no one at hand who will bless the Lord with you ?

Consider carefully, therefore, all these things and those
others which are too numerous to mention, and be punctilious

60

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

in your observance of the laws of ecclesiastical custom whether
you are alone or with others. For if the doctors of the Church
had deemed it necessary, they would have given us one version
of the offices of the Church for the use of solitaries and another
for the use of communities; but by being content to compose
one only, without any variation, they taught us to hold to this
one order with inviolable respect. For they perceived that
whatever is reverently offered up in God's service by any
member of the Church is sustained by the faith and devotion
of the whole body, since the Spirit of the Church, which gives
life to the whole body which is preserved by Christ its Head, is
one. The whole Church is composed of the joining together
of its different members; but it is certainly a single body,
established on the firm foundation of a single faith and filled
with the power of one life-giving Spirit. This is why the
Apostle says: 'There is one body and one Spirit, even as ye are
called in one hope of your calling.' 1 And so it is good that
whatever action in the holy offices is performed by any one
section of the faithful should be regarded as the common act
of the whole Church, joined in the unity of faith and the love
of charity.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Now this is why, when in offering the Mass we say: *Be
mindful, O Lord, of Thy servants and handmaids', we add a
little later Tor whom we offer, or who offer up to Thee, this
sacrifice of praise'. These words make it quite plain that the
sacrifice of praise is offered by all the faithful, women as well
as men, even though it appears to be offered by the priest
alone; for that which he performs with his hands in offering
sacrifices to God is rendered pleasing by the earnest piety in
the souls of the multitude of the faithful. This is made clear by
another passage: 'We beseech Thee therefore, O Lord, gra-
ciously to accept this oblation of our service and that of Thy
whole family/ These words make it even clearer that the sacri-

1 Epk iv, 4.
61

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

fice which is placed upon the holy altar by the priest is offered
up by the whole of God's family. This unity of the Church
was clearly proclaimed by the Apostle when he said: Tor we
being many are one bread and one body.' 1 For so great is the
unity of the Church in Christ that throughout the whole world
there is but one bread which is the Body of Christ and one
chalice which is the Chalice of His Blood. Just as the divinity
of the Word of God is one and fills the whole world, so
although that Body is consecrated in many places and on many
days, yet there are not many bodies but the one Body of
Christ. And just as this bread and wine are truly changed into
the Body of Christ, so all those who worthily partake of it in
the Church are made into the one Body of Christ, as He Him-
self bore witness when He said: 'He that eateth My flesh and
drinketh My blood dwelleth in Me and I in him/ 2

If, therefore, we are all one body in Christ and we who dwell
in Him cannot be separated from one another in spirit even
though we are separated in the flesh, I can see no harm in our
observing, when we are alone, the common custom of the
Church, since by the mystery of our undivided unity we are
never apart from her. When I in my solitude utter the common
words of the Church I show that I am one with her and that
by the indwelling of the Spirit I truly dwell in her: and if I am
truly a member of her it is not unfitting that I fulfil my
universal duty.

CHAPTER NINE

Moreover the eyes, tongue, feet and hands each have their
own particular function in the human body; yet the hands do
not touch, the feet do not walk, the tongue does not speak nor
the eyes see of themselves and for their own sake; the special
function of each part of the body can be attributed to the
whole. And those functions which belong to a particular mem-
ber by virtue of its nature can be said to be performed by the
body which is the whole, so that the whole may properly be
1 1 Cor. x, 17. 2 John vi, 56.

62

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

said to manifest the activity of its parts and the part that of the
whole. That is why St. Paul's tongue could truthfully say: *I
suffer trouble in Christ's gospel even unto bonds'/ although
his tongue was not itself in chains; and he goes on to say:
The word of God is not bound.' Peter and John ran to
Christ's sepulchre, although it was only their feet which per-
formed the act of running; Stephen saw the heavens opened,
although seeing is the special function of the eyes. Isaac
touched and felt his son Jacob, yet the power of touching and
feeling belongs particularly to the hands. And so it is clear
that any action of an individual member is the work of the
whole body; and conversely each of the parts participates in
the action of the body as a whole.

CHAPTER TEN

What cause for astonishment, then, is there in the fact that a
priest, who is certainly a member of the ecclesiastical body,
should when he is alone represent the whole Church in giving
greeting and replying, saying 'The Lord be with you' and
answering c And with thy spirit'; or that he should afterwards
both ask and give a blessing ? For by the mystery of her in-
ward unity the whole Church is spiritually present in the person
of each human being who has a share in her faith and her
brotherly love. Truly, the fact of aloneness cannot make the
unity of faith a solitary thing, nor can the presence of many
cause it to be divided. What harm does it do for many voices
to come from one mouth if the faith they express is one? For,
as I have akeady said, the whole Church forms a single body.
The Apostle bears witness to this: Tor as the body is one, and
hath many members, and all the members of that one body,
being many, are one body; so also is Christ. For by one Spirit
are we all baptized into one body'; 2 and again: 'Christ's body,
which is the Church.*

If, then, the whole Church is the one body of Christ and we
are members of the Church why should we not, since we are
1 2 Tim. ii, 9. * i Cor. xtt, 12.

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THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

truly united to her, use when we are alone the words of the
Church which is our body ? Indeed, if we who are many are
one in Christ, each of us possesses in Him the whole; and so
although in our bodily solitude we seem to be far from the
Church, yet we are most immediately present in her through
the inviolable mystery of unity. And so it is that that which
belongs to all belongs to each, and conversely that which is
particular to some is also common to all in the unity of faith
and love. So the people have a right to cry: 'Have mercy on
me, O God, have mercy on me' and 'Make haste, O God, to
deliver me; make haste to help me, O Lord'; and an individual
man to say: c God be merciful unto us and bless us.' Our holy
fathers decided that this fellowship and communion of Christ's
faithful ought to be a matter so certain that they made it an
article of the creed of the Catholic faith and commanded us to
observe it as one of the basic precepts of the Christian religion.
For as soon as we have said C I believe in the Holy Ghost and
the holy Catholic Church' we add 'The communion of saints';
so that when we give witness to God of our faith we speak
also of the fellowship of the Church which is one with Him.
Now the communion of the saints in the unity of faith con-
sists in this: they believe in one God, are reborn in one bap-
tism, strengthened by one Holy Spirit, and admitted into the
same eternal life by the grace of adoption.

Now just as the Greeks call man a microcosm, that is to say
a little world, because his body is comprised of the same four
elements as the universe itself, so each of the faithful is a little
Church, since without any violation of the mystery of her
inward unity each man receives all the sacraments of human
redemption which are divinely given to the whole Church. If
one man, then, can be said to receive the sacraments which are
common to the whole Church, why should he be prevented,
when alone, from uttering the words common to the whole
Church, for the sacraments are so much more important than
any words.

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In case there is still some perverter of our arguments who
says: 'Those things which were instituted for the whole
assembly of the faithful must under no circumstances be used
by solitary individuals/ we will now give an example which
has the authority of the Holy Scriptures themselves, so that he
may be convinced by reason rather than by words. The book
of Joshua tells us something which is well known; namely that
the children of Reuben and Gad, and half the tribe of Manas-
seh, departing from the children of Israel out of Shiloh so that
they might enter the country of Gilead, the land of their pos-
session, built a great altar in the land of Canaan. The people of
Israel were very angry and took up arms against them, asking
why they had dared so rashly to build an altar other than the
altar of the Lord. They answered that they had not done this
as a transgression, but to secure a witness for the future; lest*,
they said, c in time to come your children might speak unto our
children, saying: What have ye to do with the Lord God of
Israel? For the Lord hath made Jordan a border between us
and you, ye children of Reuben and children of Gad; ye shall
have no part in the Lord. So shall your children make our
children cease from fearing the Lord.* 1

If there is anyone to whom it is not already clear, let me
explain briefly why I have brought in this part of the story.
It is to show that some of the brethren might, in their sim-
plicity, be disturbed by the thought that they were in some
way cut off from the body of the faithful if they did not dare,
in their solitude, to use the common words of the Church in
their prayers. And so they use these words that they may show
that they still form part of the ecclesiastical body, and those
same words bring peace to their unquiet souls by bearing
witness to the spiritual presence of the faithful. For indeed the
children of Reuben and of Gad built an altar, not for the
offering of libations, but as an emblem of their unity with the
people of Israel; and these others now say, as if they were their

1 Joshua xxii

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

children: "Behold the altar of the Lord, which our fathers
made, not for burnt-offerings nor for sacrifices; but as a witness
between us and you.' 1 They did what they did as a witness of
the fellowship of Israel, and we say what we say as a symbol
of the true unity of the Church; they lest they be looked down
upon by their brethren and we lest we be tormented by our
thoughts. They built the likeness of an earthly altar; we declare
the truth of spiritual unity; they for a witness to their children,
and we to maintain the inviolable mystery of our new birth
and the fellowship of our brethren.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Some of the things which the Church does seem unnecessary
as far as human reasoning is concerned; but if we look at the
mystery of their inward virtue we will see that they are divine.
Who has not been amazed by the fact that canon law decrees
that no man who has been married twice may ever be raised
to the priesthood, and yet allows a priest who has committed
fornication to be restored to his former office when he has done
penance? What the Apostle thinks about fornication is per-
fectly clear: c Neither fornicators nor idolaters nor adulterers
shall inherit the kingdom of God.' 2 But of those who marry a
second time he says: e The wife is bound by the law as long as
her husband liveth; but if her husband be dead she is at liberty
to be married to whom she will; only in the Lord/ 3 It is per-
fectly plain from these words that those who marry twice do
not transgress the law of God; and that fornicators are cut off
from the kingdom of God because of the excesses of the flesh.

What is the meaning of this, then ? Why are those who have
committed no sin deprived of all hope of the priesthood, while
others whose guilt has cut them off from God's kingdom are
not, provided they worthily do penance, deprived of the
assurance of ecclesiastical rank? Unless for this reason: that
second marriages, although not sinful, affect in some way the
mystery of the Church. For just as Christ, the high-priest of
1 Joshua xxii, 28. 2 1 Cor. vi, 9-10. 8 Ibid., vii, 39*

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the good things to come, a true priest according to the order
of Melchisedech, who on the altar of the Cross offered to God
the Father the lamb of His own body for the world's salvation,
is the husband of one bride. Holy Church, who is certainly a
virgin since she keeps inviolate the unity of faith, so every
priest is commanded to be the husband of one wife, so that he
may bear the likeness of the great Bridegroom.

Thus, as far as those who have married twice are concerned,
it is not the degree of sin but the nature of the sacrament which
is important; they are rejected so that the mystical pattern of
true priesthood may be preserved, not as a punishment for
their sins. Otherwise the apostle would have numbered among
the sins that which he permits to be done. And the holy canons
number those who condemn second marriages among the
Novatian heretics. We will, if we have not akeady said enough
to maintain the mystery of ecclesiastical unity, proceed still
further.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I ask you now in all charity, brethren, whether if two
brothers are together one of them may rightly say to the other
'The Lord be with you'. Is he not speaking in the plural to a
single person, and setting aside literal meaning in observing
the custom of the Church? For, according to the rules of
speech, when he is speaking to an individual he should say:
'with thee', not 'with you'. And if it is wrong for him to
address one man in the plural, he should always use the singular
'The Lord be with thee'. No one who has frequented the
threshold of the Apostles can fail to know how inconsistent
this is with the law of the Church. For there is no doubt that
neither the most blessed bishop of the Holy See, when he is
saying his private Mass with a single server, nor any bishop
or priest of the Catholic Church uses this form of words in the
singular.

If, then, we can approve the custom of the holy priests; if
one man has the right to say to another 'The Lord be with
you' without discord or contravention of the rules of ecclesi-

6?

THE BOOK OF C THE LORD BE WITH YOU 5

astical order, Is there any reason why a single man by himself
should not use this form of words, since as far as the literal
meaning of the words goes there is little to choose in incon-
gruity between saying it to oneself and saying it to one other
person? Since, then, the authority of ecclesiastical custom is
such that all the power of polished eloquence yields to it
humbly; since it is far less concerned with words than with
meaning, if the rules of grammar may be ignored when there
are two men present, it follows that one man alone can set
them aside without blame. Therefore, as the Church's authority
permits the use of the phrase 'The Lord be with you' when
only two are present, one man alone has the right to use the
same phrase without going against her authority.

The same is true of the response 'And with thy spirit 5 and
of the asking and giving of a blessing by and to the reader
when one is alone. It is not the number of persons with which
we are concerned, but rather the mystical unity of the Church,
whose unity does not exclude a multiplicity of members and
whose numerousness does not destroy her unity, since her one
body includes many members and her many members make up
a single body; neither is the wholeness of the body destroyed
by the number of her members.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It is not surprising that Holy Church is said to be many in
one and one in many when you remember that the people of
the earthly Israel, because they were related by birth, main-
tained among themselves this same pattern of unity. Moses
sent messengers to the king of Edom, saying: 'Thus saith thy
brother Israel.' 1 And again, when King Arad the Canaanite
waged war against Israel and triumphed over them, having
taken some of them prisoners, Israel vowed a vow to the
Lord, saying: 'If thou wilt deliver this people into my hands,
then I will utterly destroy their cities.' 2 We find another clear
example in the Book of Kings, when the people of Israel said

1 Num. xx, 14. a Ibid., xxi, z.

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THE BOOK OF C THE LORD BE WITH YOU ?

to the people of Judah, on David's return to his kingdom: *I
have ten parts in the King, and I have also more right in
David than thee: why then didst thou despise me, that my
advice should not be first had in bringing back my king ? ?1

If that people could speak as one person because they all
sprang from one stock, or rather, because they all worshipped
one God, and thus show themselves to be one in many, how
much more may holy Church, since she is made holy and
governed by the one Spirit of God, filled with the mysteries of
one faith and baptism, and called by the grace of adoption to
take possession of one inheritance, have such a fellowship
within herself that each member may use the words of all and
all may use the words of each. And so it happens that when
we are saying the Divine Office we often sing, in honour of a
single saint, words which we know apply to the whole Church;
this will be quite clear to you if you read the hymns to the
Blessed Mother of God and the other saints carefully.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Indeed the Church of Christ, which is an immovable pillar,
to whom the keys of the kingdom of heaven were given, is not
the slave of case and number, but binds under her own laws
all the modes of speech. She is concerned with souls, not
words, so she takes little notice of the presence of bodies or
the moments of time, but considers the devotion and unity of
souls. c She judgeth all things, yet herself is judged of no man/ 2
This is why we say, when we are celebrating the holy solemni-
ties of Easter: *O God, who on this day through Thine only-
begotten Son hast overcome death and opened unto us the
gate of everlasting life', when we all know very well that that
Pasch of the Jews, during which the Lord suffered and rose
again, is past, and that the light of Paschal rejoicing shines
upon us on the nearest Sunday. In the same way we say on the
feast of the Ascension and at Whitsun 'today', since the time
of their occurrence is determined according to the Easter
1 2 Sam. six, 43. * i Cor. H, 15.

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

reckoning. And we celebrate the beheading of John the Bap-
tist in the month of August, although it is almost certain that
he was slain by Herod about the time of the Lord's Passion.

The same is true of the feast of St. James, and that of
St. Peter-in-Chains. We read in the Acts of the Apostles:
'Herod, after he had killed James the brother of John with the
swotd, because he saw that it pleased the Jews proceeded to
take Peter also.' 1 It goes on: 'Then were the days of the un-
leavened bread' and adds soon afterwards 'And when he had
apprehended him, he put him in prison, and delivered him to
four quaternions of soldiers to keep him, intending after Easter
to bring him forth to the people'. It is clear from this that the
actual events took place at one time of year and the festivals
which celebrate them are instituted at quite another. For these
feasts, as you know, are celebrated at the end of July, and
however you search through the Old Testament you will not
find that the Jews celebrated either their Pasch or the days of
unleavened bread at that time. But since these feasts could not
be celebrated properly during the Easter solemnities, the
Church appointed another time for their observance.

I have given this short account of certain great feast-days
so that you may clearly understand that Holy Church is not
bound by the laws of time; rather, she governs the changes of
time according to her pleasure. Nor does she serve the ele-
ments; it is they who are subject to and obey her. This is why
the teacher of the Gentiles says: C A11 things are yours, whether
Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or
things present or things to come; all are yours; and ye are
Christ's, and Christ is God's.' 2 And in order to show how
Holy Church excels in the greatness of her authority he says
again to these same Corinthians: T>o ye not know that the
saints shall judge the world ? and if the world shall be judged
by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest matters ? Know
ye not that we shall judge angels ? how much more things that
pertain to this life.' 3

1 Acts xil, 2. 2 1 Cor. iii, 22. 8 i Cor. vi, 2-3.

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THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

But, to return to the matter in hand, is it surprising that holy
Church, to whom God has committed such power, should so
change the words which serve her according to her wishes
that individual men may utter the words of many, and the
many those of individuals? Is there any reason why those
words which are specially suited to some men should not be
said by others ? We know that when children are baptized, the
priest says: 'What dost thou ask?' And not the child itself, but
another, answers on its behalf: 'Faith/ etc. That which is the
child's own reply is said by another. If one person may utter
the words of another even in this holy sacrament of our
regeneration, which is the source of all human salvation, why
should not one man make answer for another when it is a
question of an ecclesiastical greeting or the asking of a bless-
ing ? It is no innovation of modern foolhardiness to claim that
one man may make the responses on behalf of another in the
Church; it has the sanction of apostolic authority; for St. Paul
said to the Corinthians: 'Otherwise, when thou shalt bless
with the spirit, who shall occupy the place of the unlearned ?'*

It comes to this, that if any man is afraid to say: c The Lord
be with you' because he is alone, or even to reply 'And with
thy spirit', then he must fear to say 'Let us pray'. He must say
'Let me pray' lest he should seem to summon to prayer those
who are not there. He who thinks it sacrilege to ask a blessing
when there is no one by, or to give one, must be careful not to
say, after the reading: 'Do thou, O Lord, have mercy on us';
he must say: 'Have mercy on me.' If this seems ridiculous and
stupid to him, then let him not be ashamed to utter the words
of the Church when he is alone, since he knows that in mind
and spirit he is never separated from her. Let him not declare
by his words that he is separated from that body whose mem-
ber he particularly professes to be; but, because the Church of
Christ is truly one, let him fulfil the duty of his universality
bravely; he must strive to maintain the power of the mystical
1 i Cor. xiv, 1 6.

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body, rather than to concern himself with the suitability of
what he is saying.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Now as I have said before, there is much in the customs of
the Church which seems on the surface to be worthless and
trivial; but when we look at it more carefully we find that it is
sustained by the weight of great worth. To take but a few
examples: who, to look at the vestments of a priest, would
think there was anything in them worthy of admiration, unless
he realized what they symbolized? But if he sees them by the
light of spiritual understanding, he knows why clerics' sandals
have complete soles but only partial uppers. He reflects care-
fully upon the reason why the alb reaches to the heels and the
amice is always made of Hnen; he ponders the meaning of the
girdle and the stole; in the same way he wonders why the
dalmatic is divided into four like a cross; why the chasuble is
put on over all the other vestments and why the maniple is
worn on the left arm; he will understand when the rheum has
been removed from the eyes and nostrils of the spirit, not the
flesh.

He will realize that there is a reason why the deacon, when
he is not wearing a dalmatic, should wear a chasuble when he
reads; and why the said dalmatic has a fringe on the left side.
Nor does he foolishly make light of the custom that pontiffs
wear a pallium over their vestments, just as a plate of gold was
placed upon the forehead of the high-priest of old, for his
honour and glory; on this plate the name of the Lord was
engraved in a tetragram which meant 'Holiness to the Lord';
there were few letters, but they contained in themselves the
power of a mighty understanding. But why do we go on
indefinitely? Whatever is done in God's service, whether under
the old dispensation or the new, is done by symbolic figures
and allegories. The building of the tabernacle, the number of
the Levites, the ceremonies of the priests, and indeed the rites
of holy Church today demand that we should seek in them the

THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

virtue of their spiritual meaning. And so we may say that there
is a mystery hidden in the ministry since the hidden mystery of
allegoric meaning is explained by the outward forms of
worship,

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Let us unfold here briefly the matter which we took in hand
so that it may be made more clear and plain, leaving out those
things which have been conveniently set forth elsewhere by
learned commentators. Now the vice of arrogance is not un-
known to some readers, especially to those who possess grace
of speech; when their unbridled tongues run through the open
fields of the Scriptures the spirit of pride invades their hearts,
which love to be in favour with the multitude. While they
guide others along the right road they themselves hasten down
the by-ways of confusion and error. That is why it is cus-
tomary to say to refectory readers: 'May the Lord remove
from thee the spirit of pride/ And the reader asks a blessing
with such submissiveness that it is not the priest but someone
whom he appoints who blesses the man who is about to read;
this is done so that at the very beginning of the reading
humility may be brought in to counteract any feeling of pride
which might arise.

The reason why the priest utters a greeting in church is this:
that he may show that he is at peace with the whole assembly
of the faithful. Our Lord commanded this in the Gospel, when
he said: 'When ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought
against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may for-
give you your trespasses'; 1 and again: c lf thou bring thy gift to
the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought
against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy
way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer
thy gift/ 2 And so the priest before he offers sacrifice and
prayers to God shows by this mutual greeting that he is bound
to die faithful by the bond of brotherly love; he does this so
that he may make this commandment of the Lord clear by his
1 Mark xi, 25. a Matt, v, 23-24.

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outward actions, as well as keeping it in his heart. Because of
this., he sees as present with the eyes of the spirit all those for
whom he prays, whether or not they are actually there in the
flesh; he knows that all who are praying with him are present
in spiritual communion. And so the eye of faith directs the
words of his greeting and he realizes the spiritual presence of
those whom he knows to be near at hand. Therefore let no
brother who lives alone in a cell be afraid to utter the words
which are common to the whole Church; for although he is
separated in space from the congregation of the faithful yet he
is bound together with them all by love in the unity of faith;
although they are absent in the flesh, they are near at hand in
the mystical unity of the Church.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

But now I would like to say a little about the merits of the
solitary life and to give you some idea of what I feel about the
heights of that life by my praises rather than by my arguments.
The solitary life is indeed a school of heavenly learning, a
training in divine arts. There all that we learn is God; He is
the way by which we proceed and through which we come
to a knowledge of the highest truth. The hermitage is a para-
dise of delight where the fragrant scents of the virtues are
breathed forth like sweet sap or glowing spice-flowers. There
the roses of charity blaze in crimson flame and the lilies of
purity shine in snowy beauty, and with them the humble
violets whom no winds assault because they are content with
lowly places; there the myrrh of perfect penance perfumes the
air and the incense of constant prayer rises unceasingly.

But why should I call to mind these in particular ? For the
lovely buds of all the holy virtues glow there many-coloured
and graces flourish in an undying greenness beyond the power
of words to describe. O hermitage! delight of holy souls, un-
failing in your inner sweetness. You are like the Chaldean
furnace in which holy young men check the raging fire by the
power of their prayers and put out the thronging, crackling

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flames by the ardour of their faith; where their bonds are burnt
and yet their limbs do not feel the fire; for they are loosed from
their sins and their souls are stirred up to sing hymns in God's
praise, saying: 'Thou hast loosed, O Lord, my bonds; I will
offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving/ 1 You are the kiln in
which the vessels of the Eternal King are shaped; where they
are beaten to an everlasting brightness by the hammer of
penance and polished with the file of wholesome chastisement;
where the rust of the worn-out soul is destroyed and the rough
dross of sin is cast aside. 'The furnace proves the potter's
vessel; and trial and tribulation prove righteous men.' 2

O warehouse of heavenly merchants, in which are found the
best of those wares for whom the land of the living is prepared!
Happy market-place, where earthly goods are exchanged for
those of heaven, and things eternal substituted for those which
pass away! Blessed market, where life everlasting is set out for
sale and may be bought by any man, however little he possesses;
where a little bodily suffering can purchase the company of
heaven and a few sparse tears procure everlasting gladness;
where we cast aside worldly possessions and enter into the
patrimony of our eternal inheritance! You, O solitary cell, are
the wonderful workshop of spiritual labour, in which the
human soul restores to itself the likeness of its Creator and
returns to its pristine purity, where the blunted senses regain
their keenness and subtlety, and tainted natures are renewed in
sincerity by unleavened bread. The gifts you bestow are these:
that while the countenance seems pale with fasting the soul is
nourished with the fatness of God's grace; that he who was
once so wrapped in darkness that he did not know himself can
with a pure heart behold God. You lead man back to his
beginnings and recall him from banishment to the heights of
his ancient dignity. You make it possible for man to see, from
the citadel of his mind, all earthly things flowing away beneath
him and himself passing away in the stream of perishable
things. You, O hermitage, are the tent of the holy army, the
battlefield of the victorious host, God's fortress, c the tower of
1 Ps. cxvi, 16-17. a Ecclus. xxvii, 6.

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David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand
bucklers, all shields of mighty men/ 1 You are the battlefield of
God, the arena of spiritual strife, the angels' amphitheatre, the
wrestling-school of strong combatants, where the spirit
struggles with the flesh and the strong is not overthrown by
the weak. You are a rampart to those hastening to the fight, a
bulwark for the strong, a protection for those fighters who
never yield. Let the barbarian host which surrounds you rage;
let them bring up their mantlets, hurl their fiery weapons and
increase the number of brandished swords; those who dwell
within your walls, armed with the breastplate of faith, rejoice
in the invincible protection of their leader and are triumphant
in the certainty that their enemies will be overthrown. It was
said to them: *The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold
your peace 7 ; 2 and to each singly: Tear not; for they that be
with us are more than they that be with them.' 3 You, O solitary
life, are the death of vice and the life and kindler of virtue. The
law exalts you; the prophets admire you; all men who have
reached the heights of perfection have recognized your worth.
It is to you that Moses owes his receiving of the Decalogue,
because of you that Elijah saw the Lord's passing, 4 through
you that Elisha was clothed in a double portion of his master's
spirit.

What more shall I say? The Redeemer of the world, at the
very beginning of the work of redemption, made His herald a
dweller in the desert, so that in the dawn of the new world the
morning star of truth might rise from you, after whom was to
come the full sun who was to bring light to the world's dark-
ness by the glory of His splendour. You are Jacob's ladder,
conveying men to heaven, and bringing angels to our aid. You
are the golden highway leading men back to their native land,
the racecourse which carries those who have run well onward
to receive their crown. O eremitic life, you are the soul's bath,
the death of evildoing, the cleanser of filth; you make clean
the hidden places of the soul, wash away the foulness of sin

1 Song of Sol. iv, 4. 2 Exod. xiv, 14.

8 2 Kings vi, 16. 4 i Kings xix.

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THE BOOK OF C THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

and make souls shine with angelic purity. The hermit's cell is
the meeting-place of God and man, a cross-roads for those
who dwell in the flesh and heavenly things. For there the
citizens of heaven hold intercourse with men, not in the lan-
guage of the flesh, but by being made manifest, without any
clamour of tongues, to the rich and secret places of the soul.
The cell knows those hidden counsels which God gives to
men. How fair a thing it is to see a brother in his cell pass all
the night in singing psalms, keeping watch, as it were, over
God's fortress; as he watches the stars move through their
heavenly courses the psalms proceed in order from his lips.
And as the earlier and later stars come to light alternating in
their courses, so the psalms which proceed from his lips as
from a day-spring come to an end as if keeping pace with the
movement of the stars. He is carrying out the duty of his call-
ing, and they are performing the task appointed to them; he in
his chanting is reaching out inwardly towards the unapproach-
able light while they, one after the other, refresh his bodily
eyes with visible light. And although each hastens towards his
end by a different path, yet the heavenly bodies are in harmony
with God's servant in their mutual obedience.

The hermit's cell sees when a heart is burning with the fire
of divine love, and knows whether a man seeks the face of
God with the constancy of perfect devotion. It knows when
his soul is sprinkled with the dew of heavenly grace and when
remorse waters it with flowing streams of tears; even if tears
do not spring from the eyes of the flesh, yet the sorrowing
heart is not far from floods of tears, for that which cannot be
plucked from the branch of outward observation is neverthe-
less always preserved at the root of the moist and verdant
heart. If the soul cannot be always weeping, it is enough that
it should be sorrowful. The cell is a prison-house where
precious stones are polished so that they may be used after-
wards to adorn the temple without any wound of hammering.

You, O hermitage, are like the Lord's sepulchre; you
receive those whom sin has slain and bring them again to life
in God by the breath of the Holy Spirit. You are a sepulchre

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from the confusion and trouble of this life, but you open the
way to the life of heaven. Those who escape from the ship-
wreck of this stormy world find in you a haven of peace; those
who were wounded in battle and flee from the enemy's hands
see in you the dwelling-place of a skilful doctor. For as soon
as they retire with a perfect heart into the shadow of your peak
the bruises of their hurt souls and the wounds of their inner
man are healed. It was of you that Jeremiah said: 'It is good
that a man should quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. He
sitteth alone and keepeth silence because he hath borne it upon
him. 31 He who dwells within you is lifted up above himself,
for the soul which hungers for God raises itself above the
sights of earth and stands upon the citadel of divine contem-
plation; it holds itself apart from the world's doings and soars
on high on the wings of heavenly longing; when he is con-
cerned with beholding Him who is above all things, man
transcends himself as well as the rest of the lowliness of the
valley of this world. The hermitage is indeed a spiritual
dwelling-place, which makes proud men humble, gluttons
sober, cruel men kind, wrathful men meek and those who hate
burn with brotherly love. It bridles idle tongues and girds
lustful loins with the girdle of shining chastity. You, O her-
mitage, cause light-minded men to be serious and jesters to
cease uttering scurrilities; you make prattlers constrain them-
selves under the discipline of silence. You are the nurse of
fastings and vigils, the guardian of patience, the teacher of
purest simplicity; to you deceit and guile are unknown. You
hold the wanderer in the chains of Christ, and make men of
undisciplined behaviour repress their evildoing. You know how
to bring men to the peak of perfection and raise them to the
height of perfect holiness. You make them smooth and pol-
ished, marred by no roughness; you make of them squared
stones, fit for building the walls of the heavenly Jerusalem;
they will not be shifted by the inconstancy of their behaviour
but will remain immovable in their serious following of holy

1 Lam. iii, 26-8.

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THE BOOK OF 'THE LORD BE WITH YOU'

religion. You make them strangers to themselves; you make
the vessels of vice blossom with virtue. You are black but
comely, like the tents of Kedar or the curtains of Solomon.
You are the bath in which the shorn sheep are washed. You
are like the fishpools of Heshbon. Your eyes are as the eyes of
doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk and fitly set.
Indeed you are the mirror of souls where the human soul can
behold itself clearly, supplying what is lacking, removing what
is unnecessary, straightening what is crooked and rebuilding
what is misshapen. You are the bridal couch on which a dowry
is paid to the Holy Spirit and the happy soul is united to its
heavenly spouse. Righteous men love you, and those who flee
from you, deprived of the light of truth, do not know where
to set their feet. 'If I do not remember thee let my tongue
cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I prefer not thee above my
chief joy.' 1 Let us sing of you with cheerful voice in the words
of David: c This is my rest for ever: here will I dwell, for I have
desired it. How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for
delights.' 2 The beauty which adorned Rachel's countenance
and that better part which Mary chose, which shall never be
taken away from her, are both symbols of you. You are a
garden of spices, the fountain of gardens, a pomegranate.
Although your bark seems bitter to those who know you not,
how lovely is that which is hidden within, how sweet is your
marrow! Hermitage, you are an escape from the persecuting
world, rest for the labourer, comforter of the sorrowful, a cool
refuge from the world's heat, the rejector of sin and the free-
dom of souls. David sought you when he was suffering from
the world's evils and endured the weariness of a dark and tor-
mented heart: *Lo, then would I wander far off and remain in
the wilderness,' 3

What shall I say of the others ? The very Redeemer of man-
kind deigned to visit you and sanctify you by His presence at
the beginning of His work. For after He had been washed in
the water of baptism, as the Gospel tells us, immediately the
Spirit drove Him into the wilderness: 'And he was there in the
1 Ps. cxxxvii, 6. 2 Ps. cxxxii, 14. 3 Ps. Iv, 7.

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THE BOOK OF *THE LORD BE WITH YOU*

wilderness forty days and forty nights, tempted of Satan; and
was with the wild beasts/ 1 Let the world recognize that it is in
your debt, since it was from you that God came to embark
upon his work of preaching and miracles. How terrible you
are, O hermitage, to the evil spirits; there the monks' cells are
raised like rows of tents in a camp, like the towers of Sion and
the ramparts of Jerusalem against the Assyrians and against
Damascus, for in these cells divers tasks are carried out in a
common spirit; some sing psalms, others pray, some write and
others toil at various manual labours. Are not those divine
words: 'How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy taber-
nacles, O Israel! As valleys are they spread forth, as gardens by
the river's side, as the trees of aloes which the Lord hath
planted, and as cedar trees beside the waters' 2 applicable to
you? What more shall I say of you, O solitary life, blessed life,
pleasure-garden of souls, holy life, angelic life, hall of heavenly
jewels, court of the senators of heaven ? Your fragrance excels
the fragrance of all spices, your taste is sweeter to the tongue
of the enlightened heart than the dripping honeycomb or any
honey. Whatever is said of you cannot do justice to your worth
and merit, for the fleshly tongue cannot express what the
spirit knows of you; no bodily organ of speech has ever
revealed the sweetness of your inward savour at the heart's
core. Those who know you love you; those who have rested
in the delight of your loving embrace know the merits of your
praise.

As for those who do not know these things, they can never
know you. I know that I am unworthy to praise you; but I
also most certainly know this, O blessed life, and have no
hesitation in saying it: any man who strives to remain constant
in the desire for your love dwells in you, and God dwells in
him. Satan and his wiles are subject to him, and the devil
groans to see him approaching that place from which he him-
self was banished. And having won a victory over the demons
such a man is made the companion of the angels; an exile from
the world, he is the heir of paradise; denying himself, he be-

1 Mark i, 13. a Num. xxiv, 5-6.

so

THE BOOK OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU

comes Christ's follower. And he who follows In His footsteps
now will certainly, when he comes to the end of his journey,
be raised to the glory of His fellowship. I say with all confi-
dence that he who remains in the solitary life to the end of his
days for the love of God will, when he quits this mortal
dwelling, come to that glorious building, the house not made
with hands, his eternal home in heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY

See, beloved father, I have given you a problem to solve,
impelled thereto by the inquiries of the brethren; and have not
hesitated in the meanwhile to say what I myself thought. I did
not do this, however, that I might usurp the authority of a
teacher and venture to instruct others, but rather that I might
make clear to you what I myself think in my inexperience.
Thus, whatever is to be found in the foregoing arguments is
simply set out for your inspection; it is not a categorical asser-
tion or a definitive statement but a disquisition supported by
reasons. Therefore, dearly beloved, I beg you to look carefully
at all that I have written; if my assumptions are false, obliterate
them with a sharp knife, but if, as a result of your teaching,
they are consonant with sound doctrine, then strengthen them
with the force of your own authority. I could have said what
I had to say more briefly, but I must confess that it gave me
pleasure to prolong my speaking to your sweet self while I had
the opportunity. We are happy to spend a long time in pound-
ing spices, especially when he in whose service they are to be
used has himself so sweet a fragrance.

May almighty God command His servant Leo by secret
inspiration to shed three tears or utter three sighs each day for
me who am so wretched.

THE THIRTEENTH TREATISE OF
ST. PETER DAMIAN

On the Perfection of Monks

Peter the sinful monk sends to the venerable Lord Abbot O.
. . . and to his holy community the duty of devoted service.

Even if a poor debtor cannot pay all that he owes, it is con-
sidered that he has fulfilled his obligation if he offers that little
amount which he possesses. Often, indeed, a poor peasant who
has borrowed money at interest is absolved from the obliga-
tions of his note of hand simply by bringing a gift of herbs to
his creditor. And so I, who owe so much to your kindness,
send this poor screed; poor, let me say, because of my clumsi-
ness, not of its own nature, for its subject is the will of God,
and it sets forth faithfully matters old and new.

CHAPTER ONE

You are well aware, my brothers (I say it with tears), into
what lack of zeal our holy order has fallen, and does not cease
to fall more deeply every day; so that now, having carelessly
forgotten almost all its precepts, we seem to be content to
wear merely the outward habit of our calling. Under the cloak
of religion we live worldly lives, and outrage the spirit of dis-
cipline when we abandon ourselves to the flowing stream of
pleasures, disgracing the title of our nobility, and vainly bear-
ing the name of monks. We are like bastard sons, who delight
in being called by their father's name, but whose dishonour-
able origin bars them by law from inheritance. Ishmael and the
sons of Cethura were all equally said to be the sons of Abraham.
But when the laws of succession came into effect, the inheri-

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tance in all Its entirety was bequeathed to Isaac, the lawful son:
the sons of the concubines received only gifts; for Solomon
says that bastard slips shall not send forth deep roots. 1 I beg
you not to take my words as an insult to yourselves. For you
know that it is best to lay the kindling at that point where some
spark of fire seems to remain; who is so foolish as to blow
upon ashes from which all heat has completely departed? Un-
less, through Christ's grace, I hoped for better things from
you, I should regard it as a waste of time to forsake my other
tasks and pursue you with hortatory letters.

Therefore, beloved, gather your forces, with Christ's aid,
and do not bear the yoke of His service to whose banner you
are pledged idly or weakly, but rather zealously and manfully;
so that the foundation of your way of life, which stands at
present in the middle way, may not through your carelessness
return to nothing (which God forbid), but may, through the
perseverance of your abiding fervour, reach the peak of per-
fection. Remember what was said to the angel of the Church
of Sardis: 'Be watchful, and strengthen the things which
remain, that are ready to die; for I have not found thy works
perfect before God.' 2 Since he did not find his works perfect
before God, he declared that even those things which had been
well done were at the point of death. If, therefore, that which
is dead in us be not fanned into life, what remains alive in us
will soon be extinguished. It is certain that he who does not
bring his labours to completion loses the benefit of the work
he has done. Of what use is it that a body begins to be formed
in the mother's womb, if it does not reach the fullness of
natural growth? You know well of what child it was said: *A
woman, when she is in travail, hath sorrow, because her hour
is come; but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remem-
bereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into
the world.' 3

CHAPTER Two

God, who weighs the deeds of every person and office, of
1 Wisd. of Sol. iv, 3. 2 Rev. iii, 2. 8 John xvi, 21.

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every state and rank most meticulously and carefully In the
balance, and has different scales for each order, does not look
with favour upon an abortive work. Did not he who wrote
upon the wall with his finger: 'Thy kingdom is weighed in the
balance, and thou art found wanting', 1 have a balance fit for
weighing the works of a king, and place his deeds therein ?
And immediately after he added: 'Thy kingdom is divided, and
given to the Medes and Persians/

If, then, almighty God took from this man both his king-
dom and his life, for no other crime than this, that there was
not found in him that fullness of good works which becomes
a king, what is to be thought of us, who in our monastic pro-
fession vowed that we would scale the heights of perfection,
and yet lie inert in the valley of our shortcomings in a torpor of
sloth ? Why does a man strive with all his might to complete
what he has begun? Only so that he may not lose all that his
previous labour has won for him. Of what use is it, may I ask,
for a man to set out on any road, if he does not reach his
destination ? In the same way, if a man has incurred the enmity
of a king, and can only be re-established in his favour if he
presents him with a hundred pounds of silver, and knows too
that if he pays his debt to the king he will receive not only
favour, but the distinction and insignia of some great office,
would he not be foolish to allow ninety-nine pounds which
he has akeady paid into the public treasury to slip through his
fingers because he did not pay the remaining pound which was
necessary to make up the amount? Is it not better for him to
pay the little which was lacking in full, and to receive royal
favour and great office, than to lose what he has given, and,
which is more terrible, still to be subject to the king's wrath ?

I make so bold as to say, brethren, that we have given
ninety pounds of silver to Christ our king, for whose sake we
have abandoned our possessions and spurned marriage; for
whom we avoid the eating of meat, hold ourselves apart from
the pomp and glory of the world, and exchange the splendour
of worldly dress for our humble garb. These, I confess, are

1 Dan. v, 27.

8 4

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

great and difficult things, and will be more greatly rewarded
with divine gifts; but something is still needed before we can
complete the payment of our debt and deserve admittance to
the treasure-house of the eternal King. You ask what this is:
the answer presents itself to me at once: obedience, love, joy,
peace, patience and the other virtues enumerated by the
teacher of the Gentiles. 1 But I wish to put it more succinctly,
so that it may the more easily, and therefore the more firmly,
stay in your minds. It is nothing other than this: a fervent love
of God and mortification of yourself. For if those apostolic
words which say: 'Always bearing about in our bodies the
dying of the Lord Jesus' were alive in us, all our delight would
necessarily be in God, since fleshly love would have nowhere
to spread within us; our leaping fire would burn there with
him, since it would find no room within ourselves. The truly
wise man, he who is intent on the guarding of his salvation,
watches over the curbing of his vices with such anxious care
that he binds with the girdle of perfect mortification his loins
and his reins, his belly and his flanks. He achieves this when
the greedy gullet is kept in check; when the wanton tongue is
compelled to be silent; when the ears are shut to scandal-
mongering; when the eyes are forbidden to look upon un-
lawful things; when the hand is bound, for fear it should strike
cruelly, and the foot, lest it should wander idly; when the
heart is withstood, for fear it should envy the prosperity and
happiness of another, or desire or covet that which is not its
own, lest it should be cut off from brotherly love by anger, or
raise itself above others in its pride, or succumb to the delights
of enticing pleasure; lest it should be too much weighed down
by grief, or lay itself open to the seductions of joy. Since, then,
the human mind cannot be utterly empty, but must always be
concerned with love of something, it must be completely sur-
rounded with this wall of virtue; that which is not permitted
to expand in its own surroundings must necessarily be carried
above itself.

1 Gal. v, 22-23.
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ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

CHAPTER THREE

Thus, when our mind begins to rest in its Creator and to
taste those delights of inner sweetness, it soon rejects anything
which it considers to be opposed to the law of God, and abhors
whatever is not in harmony with the rules of eternal justice.
And from this true mortification springs; this is how it happens
that a man, bearing his Redeemer's cross, seems dead to the
world. From now on, he takes no pleasure in frivolous gossip,
nor does he waste time in idle conversation; he occupies him-
self with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs; he desires solitude
and seeks a quiet place; the workshops where the brethren
speak together and the cloisters of the monastery are to him
like the public market-place; he searches for and takes pleasure
in remote and lonely places; as far as he can, he avoids all
human contact, so that he may the more easily stand in the
presence of his Creator.

When this man has destroyed the citadels of the enemy;
when he has trodden on the necks of the kings hiding in the
cave and brought them to utter ruin; when he has overthrown
the kingdoms of the sea and the plains and the mountains,
what is left for him, except to possess the promised land in
peace and security with the triumphant Joshua? What is the
use of having left Egypt and crossed the Red Sea dryshod, if
we are confined in the desert for forty years, and can neither
return to the fleshpots nor enter by right of possession into
the land flowing with milk and honey ? We lie snoring in sleep,
and drowse in idleness.

We may justly be reproached with those words which
Joshua spoke to the seven tribes which had not yet received
their inheritance: 'How long are ye slack to possess the land
which the Lord God of your fathers hath given you P' 1 He is
indeed a foolish soldier who is content with victory if he has
not been eager in the fight beforehand; he is lacking in man-
hood if he desires to gain the victory before going out to
battle. The farmer will be disappointed if, before he has

1 Joslraa xvili, 3.

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ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

laboured in the sowing of his seed, he seeks to reap the harvest;
for it is certain that he who wishes to gather in the grain must
first root out the bushes and briers. And the voice of God
truly says to sinful man: Thorns and thistles shall it bring
forth to thee'; 1 this earth, if it is to produce a rich harvest, must
first endure the hoe and the ploughshare; so that, having been
cultivated by many afflictions and by the discipline of perfect
mortification, it may be made beautiful with the abundance of
all the virtues, which are like a crop of rich fruits.

Joshua figuratively urged the sons of Joseph to this work of
husbandry when he said to them, who were complaining of
the slenderness of their wretched portion: c lf thou be a great
people, then get thee up to the wood country, and cut down
for thyself there in the land of the Perizzites and of the giants,
if mount Ephraim be too narrow for thee.' 2 Now, if I may
without incongruity refer this to the matter in hand, he who
has decided to be content with the Rule of the blessed Bene-
dict alone has confined himself within the narrow territory of
mount Ephraim. But listen, and you shall hear how the new
Joshua urges you to the heights, and commands you to make
haste towards a wider inheritance: 'We have written this rule
in order that, by observing it, we may show ourselves to have
some degree of goodness of life, and a beginning of holiness.' 3
This is Mount Ephraim. But because he considers this portion
to be a narrow one, he immediately goes beyond it to higher
and broader things: 'But for him who would hasten to the
perfection of religion, there are the teachings of the holy
Fathers ... the Conferences of the Fathers and their Institutes* etc. 4
Because these are so well known to you, there is no need for
me to name them.

CHAPTER FOUR

But, since we who are lukewarm and base in no way strive
to reach the heights, would to God that we might at least

1 Gen. iii, 18. 2 Joshua xvii, 15.

8 R.S.B. c. 73. 4 Ibid., loc cit.

8?

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

diligently plough the narrow fields of this little mountain; so
that there might be no corner in all the precepts of the Rule so
permitted to fall into neglect that it was not furrowed by the
plough of our great efforts there where we see the most diffi-
cult and exalted precepts set forth as if these were a steep moun-
tain or the living rock itself. For although we wish to be
counted among the ranks of soldiers, we do not take the
trouble to wear the badges of virtue. We set before the eyes of
men an appearance of integrity, but we do not bother to show
that we have its reality in the sight of the hidden Judge. For
there are some (I cannot say this without lamentation) who
enter into the new life of religion without abandoning the old
ways of their former life; these indeed are Gibeonites, not
Israelites. Now you know that the inhabitants of Gibeon,
smitten by the fear of death, came to the Israelites in a cunning
and deceitful way, clothed in old garments and shoes, and
bearing mouldy bread and old wineskins and sacks; soon after
their lives were restored to them by means of the treaty which
they obtained, their fraud was brought to light. Now Joshua,
having learned of their guile, cursed them, and decreed that
they must be hewers of wood and drawers of water for
ever.

These Gibeonites, who go over to the Israelites through
fear of death, symbolize those who take refuge in the ranks of
the servants of God, not because they love perfection but
because they tremble at the thought of the enormity of their
crimes. Many of them, changed in outward appearance but not
in heart, carry dry bread to eat because they have as yet no
knowledge of the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
They are clothed in old garments because, not having put off
the old man, they do not know how to put on the new man
which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. 1
And all that they do seems hardened with age, because they
persist in the evil ways of their old life, heedless of the words
of the Apostle: *Be renewed in the spirit of your mind.' 2
Those words which say: 'Old things are passed away; behold,
1 Eph. iv, 24. 2 Ibid.

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all things are become new', 1 do not apply to them. They
appear on the surface to have come to a new way of life; but
in reality they remain in the old; for their behaviour does not
bear witness to any reformation of their habits or new inten-
tion. And such as these are punished by a curse; nor will they
be permitted to share the inheritance of the Israelites. For they
are not numbered among those to whom it is said: *Ye are
thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing.' 2 Now
water is tasteless and wood is hard. And so they are com-
manded to hew wood and to draw water; for being ignorant
of the savour of spiritual wisdom, they must concern them-
selves with the hard and savourless tasks of outward labour.
And although they may seem by their service in these out-
ward things to confer some benefit on the Church, yet, because
they live as slaves, they cannot enter into possession of the
inheritance of the Israelites.

CHAPTER FIVE

Nevertheless, some of these men, if admonished frequently
and sternly corrected, if told of the heavy penalty which is
their due, and threatened with the terror of the last judgment,
will pass from servitude to freedom and rise up with the rest
to establish their right to a share of the inheritance. They are
symbolized by those tribes who were given, first by Moses,
and then by Joshua, the task of cursing, as the Scripture bears
witness: 'And all Israel, and their elders, and officers, and their
judges stood on either side of the ark before the priests, the
Levites, which bare the ark of the covenant of the Lord, as
well the stranger, as he that was born among them; half of
them over against Mount Gerizim, and half of them over
against Mount Ebal. Now they who stood over against Mount
Gerizim blessed the doers of the law; but they who stood over
against Ebal cursed the transgressors of the law.' 3 Those whose
office it was to bless symbolize those who seek the Lord's

1 2 Cor. v, 17. 2 i Pet. iii, 9.

3 Joshua viii, 33; Deut. xxvii, 12-13.

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

service not through fear of punishment, but in the hope of
heavenly reward and for the love of perfection, and who in
all the actions of their holy lives bless God without ceasing.
But those who were appointed to curse are like those who do
not burn with love of perfection or yearn with desire for
heavenly glory, but who observe the precepts of the law to
escape the pains of hell.

They are appointed to curse so that, while so doing, they
may themselves return to a knowledge of what is right, and,
pondering on the penalties which are meted out to sinners in
the Scriptures, restrain themselves by fear from the evils of
sinning. And so it clearly follows that those tribes which were
appointed to bless are the nobler; they are the sons of the
wives. Those appointed to curse are baseborn, the sons of
handmaidens, namely Gad and Asher, Dan and Naphtali, and
among them Reuben, who dishonoured his father's bed and
Zabulon, the youngest son of Leah.

It is noteworthy that we are told that all stood around the
ark of the covenant, for none of them, whether baseborn or
noble, whether lukewarm or fervent in their love of God,
abandon holy Church. Now all these things were commanded
by Moses, but put into execution by Joshua long afterwards.
Moses represents the Law, and Joshua the Gospel. Not only
did the old Law foretell that blessing was due to the just and
that cursing would be meted out to sinners; the grace of the
new Gospel has shown this to be so. But although some are
noble, whose task is to bless, and others baseborn, who tremble
with fear of being cursed; yet all alike, because they make
common cause against the enemy, because they labour to-
gether perseveringly to establish their right to the promised
land, shall be granted a portion, and they shall be co-heirs
with one another without any distinction of right. Neverthe-
less, it is far more glorious that we, being zealous and strong,
should be found to be invested with the titles of nobility, than
that because of our weakness we should be marked by our
base inferiority.

Let us then fly from Ebal; and we must even more greatly

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despise the Gibeonites; so that we may not bear the yoke of
slavery through being involved in outward observance alone,
nor be reduced by our idleness to the status of baseborn sons,
held in check only by the fear of hell. Let us establish our right
to our inheritance with the weapons of virtue, so that we may
extend the boundaries of our estate by the unremitting labours
of our husbandry. But perhaps some idle fellows will reply in
those words which the Scripture tells us the sons of Joseph
used to Joshua: 'The hill is not enough for us: and all the
Canaanites that dwell in the land of the valley have chariots of
iron/ 1 Such as these seek the heights, but fear those who dwell
in the depths; for they strive to hasten towards the summit of
virtue, but mistrust thek ability to overcome the promptings
of the vices of the flesh. But they are not allowed to sit back
like weaklings; in the same place they are given their answer:
'Thou art a great people, and hast great power: thou shalt not
have one lot only: but the mountain shall be thine, and thou
shalt cut down the wood and clear a space in which to dwell;
and the outgoing from it shall be thine.* 2 And to give greater
courage to the faint-hearted, almighty God Himself cries out:
'Them will I drive out from before the children of Israel.' 3
And Joshua encourages the warriors of the heavenly army,
and promises them an easy victory over their enemies: Tear
not, nor be dismayed, be strong and of good courage: for thus
shall the Lord do to all your enemies, against whom ye fight/ 4

CHAPTER Six

There is another matter, dearest brethren, if I may speak
familiarly to you as fellow-workers, of one mind in Christ; I
would humbly beg you to renounce a certain custom which is
observed in several monasteries of my acquaintance. Some
rulers of monks, attributing to the power of the monastic rule
more than is profitable, impose no penance on those coming
from the world, however seriously these may have sinned,

1 Joshua xvil, 16. * Ibid., loc. cit.

a Ibid., xiii, 6. * Ibid., x, 25.

9 I

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

other than the^observance of the common way of life of the
monastery. How thoughtless, how cruel, and above all how
unwise this is, those who know anything at all of the matter
will understand. For these men condemn their hearers to the
mean condition of the Ebalites; they deprive them of zeal for
penance; they do not exhort them to absolve their obligations
and then, out of love of perfection, to seek the heights, but
teach them to lie inert in shameful sloth, for ever held back by
their fear of punishment, bound by their promise to pay their
debts; so that they cannot, with those who stand by Mount
Gerizim, bless the Lord in safety, but must stand by Mount
Ebal with the sons of the handmaidens, terrified by the
javelins of cursing. He who acts like this obviously does not
know the difference between ten thousand talents and a hun-
dred pence. For if we take into account the law of discretion,
it is clear that the burden of satisfaction laid on each man must
be in proportion to the weight of his crimes. He who has
borrowed an ounce will repay it more easily than he who has
borrowed a pound; nor must the man who steals a sheep be
compelled to make the same reparation as him who steals
an ox.

If we consider the matter carefully, we will find that the very
apostles themselves, the princely founders of our knowledge
and our leaders in the Christian faith, had different tasks and
fates given to them to correspond to the shortcomings of their
former lives. St. Paul, because he took a cruel part in the
murder of Stephen, endured more torments and pains than the
others; St. Peter wiped out the stain of his marriage in the
blood of his martyrdom; but John, choosing to be a virgin,
was loved more than all the rest; and because, having re-
nounced the world in boyhood, he committed no serious sin,
he passed from this world not in the torments of martyrdom
but sweetly and peacefully as one who falls asleep. And if that
splendid preacher St. Paul could say: 'I am the least of the
apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I
persecuted the church of God'; 1 if he chastised his body and

1 1 Cor. rv, 9.

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ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

brought it into subjection; 1 if he refused for himself that right
which he allowed to others, of living by the Gospel, and earned
his bread by the work of his own hands; if he, whose labours
were greatest of all, feared that he had not attained his goal; if
he, I say, who had performed such splendid works of virtue,
could yet have no faith in his apostleship, how dare we poor
wretched creatures presume to rely on our slothful monastic
life?

It is true that the man who takes refuge in the monastic life
puts an end to his evildoing. But what is the good of ceasing
to commit sins unless we also endeavour to wipe out those
which we have already committed, atoning for them by
severe penances? If you do not believe me, see what the
blessed Pope Gregory says about this in his book on the
Pastoral Care: 'Those who have given up their sinful ways,
but do not weep for them, must be warned, lest they think that
the sins to whose number they have ceased to add, but which
they have not cleansed by their tears, are already absolved/
These matters are so clearly and so reasonably set forth there
that he who reads it through carefully will have no further
doubts on the subject; I have not added any more of it here
because I wish to avoid wearying you by being verbose. How
indeed can he be sure that his offences will be pardoned who,
coming to a place of penitence, performs no penance ?

It may perhaps be said that the rule does not prescribe for
those coming from the world any fast except the common one.
To this I answer that St. Benedict, in setting down his rules
for monks, did not destroy those holy canons which deal with
sinners; rather, he gave new strength to all the writings of the
Catholic Fathers. To those who embark on the monastic pro-
fession he gave a rule of life; he did not, however, remit the
sinner's obligation to do penance; for otherwise there might
be just complaints and murmurings both from the boys and
from those grown men who come to the monastic life without
having committed serious sin if they were forced to follow the
same rule of life as those burdened with sin. If we must never

1 1 Cor. ix, 27.
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fast or perform any other act of penance otherwise than It Is
prescribed in the Rule, why does St. Benedict command: The
superior may break his fast for the sake of the guests, unless It
happens to be a principal fast-day' P 1

Make haste now, and read, scan the pages, turn over the
leaves, make a most diligent search; and then show me where
the holy doctor has commanded by his authority the obser-
vance of this 'principal fast-day' which he mentions here in
passing. When you fail to find the place, you will be bound to
admit that the holy man did not wish us to observe only those
things which he himself set down, and that he did not annul
the precepts of the earlier Fathers in establishing his own. But,
lest any man should be so bold as to reproach me, saying that
by my disparagements I am sitting in judgment upon and
making light of our holy order, let me say here that I have so
high a regard for it as to think it second in dignity only to the
apostolic order, and confess that it is no less than a second
baptism. But I wish to repeat also the words of the prince of
the apostles to certain men who wished to be converted:
'Repent; and be baptized every one of ye.' 2 By what stretch of
the imagination can that man who does not trouble to weep
for the sins he has committed be said to be safe, when the
greatest shepherd and teacher of the Church believed that
penance was a necessary condition of that sacrament which
has more power than any other to absolve us from sin ? The
holy rule is set forth with skilful discretion and regulated with
balance and moderation for the benefit of those who truly
desire to renounce the world, and who do so freely, out of love
for perfection, not for the sake of those who, aghast at the
enormity of their crimes, are compelled by necessity to flee
from it. It was written, I say, for those who come out of love
for obedience; not for those who are dragged to the monastery
by the fear of hell; for those who desire to grow in grace, not
for those who endeavour to escape punishment. This is quite
plain at the very beginning of the rule if we carefully consider
to whom it Is that the Holy Spirit directs his words.
* R.S.B. c. 53. * Acts ii, 38.

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I say the Holy Spirit. For it was certainly not that holy and
humble man St. Benedict who, at the very beginning of his
work, sat himself in the master's seat and usurped the place
of the loving Father: 'Hearken, O my son, to the precepts of
thy Master, and incline the ear of thine heart; willingly receive
the admonition of thy loving Father.' 1 Rather, the Holy
Spirit made his servant the instrument of his voice, just as he
did at the beginning of the books of prophecy, when he cried,
through Isaias: 1 have nourished and brought up children." 2

Let us see, then, to whom he directs what he has to say, for
what sort of man all that follows is written. He says: 'To thee,
therefore, my words are now addressed, whoever thou art that,
renouncing thine own will, dost take up the strong and bright
weapons of obedience, in order to fight for the Lord Christ,
our true king.' 3 As far as we can gather from the words of the
holy man, the school of the holy Rule was established more
for the learning of obedience than for the performance of
penance. This is not to say that it excludes either the sinner or
the just man, or rejects any sort of person; but rather that its
whole strength and purpose lies in the teaching of the rules of
obedience.

I know that in writing in this way I am displeasing some of
the brethren, namely those who believe that a turning to our
way of life brings about both the absolution of our offences
and the perfection of virtue. I hope it may be enough if I reply
that in setting forth my opinions I have no desire to cast a
snare upon any man, -as the Apostle says, 4 but rather wish to
urge you on towards the good. You may wonder why I write
at such length on these matters; let me explain myself, so that
you may see that they are not irrelevant. A certain brother
came to us from a monastery, and confessed to me the sins
which he had committed as a layman. If I understood rightly,
it seemed to me that according to the decrees of the holy
canons he was bound to perform seventy years' penance. He
had been wearing the habit of religion for almost seven years;

1 R.S.B. Prol. * Isa. i, 2.

8 R.S.B. Prol. * i Cor. vii, 35.

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but when I asked him how much penance he had akeady done
for these sins, he replied that he had confessed all these matters
to the Lord Abbot, who had imposed upon him no other
penances above and beyond the common practice of the
monastery; because he declared that his changed way of life
was in itself enough to procure full absolution for all his sins.
What can I say ? I must admit that I was gravely displeased by
all this; I looked down, I trembled, I cried that the man had
been misled; for he had not even begun to do his penance,
whereas if only he had imposed upon himself certain morti-
fications, he could already have completed it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I trust that these and many other matter, of which some
deluded men, who believe themselves to be acting rightly, are
unaware, are displeasing to you also, dearly beloved; and that,
since you have the power by your free authority to correct
these men in other matters of sin, you will show them that
these also are to be shunned that they may the more carefully
avoid them. But let us return to the matter in hand. The Holy
Rule has become a great and spacious mansion, in which all
sorts and conditions of men may dwell, boys and old men, the
strong and the weak, the delicate, and those who differ from
one another in every conceivable way. And so we must not
deceive ourselves with a vain belief in our own safety; we
must not boldly claim for our own behaviour all the forbear-
ance of the Rule. Although the public highway is open to all
travellers, he is a foolish voyager who endeavours to take up
the whole of its width with his great strides. The spring which
flows in the centre is for any man's use; but he who wants to
claim the whole for himself is an arrogant fellow. I believe
that the same is true of the mildness of the Holy Rule; and I
beseech you that every brother who is concerned for his sal-
vation should recognize his own capacities and adopt for his
own use not all the indulgence which the rule permits, btit
only as much as is necessary to him. For the commands of

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authority are one thing, and kindly indulgence quite another.
A command cannot be ignored without sin; but while it is not
wrong to take advantage of relaxations, it is good not to do
so. Clear proof of what I wish to say can be found in the words
of the Rule itself, if we look carefully. St. Benedict says in one
place: 'Considering the infirmity of the weak, we think that one
half pint of wine a day is sufficient for each: but let those to
whom God gives the endurance of abstinence know that they
shall have their own reward.' 1 Now the same may be said of
the drinking of wine by monks as the Apostle says of mar-
riage: 'But I speak this by permission, not of commandment.' 2
And he goes on to say: Tor I would that all men were even as I
myself. But every man hath his proper gift of God, one after
this manner, and another after that.' 3

The Apostle desired one thing, but allowed another. He
desired that all men should be as he himself was, free from the
entanglements of marriage; but since he could not convince
them of this, he was compelled by necessity to allow marriage,
thinking it better that they should lie on the marriage-bed
like sick men than that they should break their necks by falling
into the abyss of riotous living. But blessed is the man who
listens to the Apostle when he commands that which he
desires, rather than when he permits that which he does not
desire. In the same way, the author of the Holy Rule, with
carefully weighed discretion, commands some things by virtue
of his authority, and permits others of necessity because of the
frailty of the weaker brethren. Now when he says: 'Although
we read that wine ought by no means to be the drink of
monks', 4 and elsewhere: 'Although the life of a monk ought at
all times to have about it a Lenten character, yet, since few
have strength enough for this', 5 and many other things of this
kind, it is just as if he were saying: I show you the heights, but,
seeing that you are still hobbling along on weak limbs, I lead
you through the plains; if anyone has sufficient strength,
though, let him leave the level ground which I unwillingly

1 R.S.B. c. 40. * i Cor. vii, 6. 8 Ibid., 7.

* R.S.B. c. 40. 5 Ibid., 49-

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allow you to traverse and go to the high places which I long
for. It is certainly better to save one's soul in Segor than to be
destroyed by fire and brimstone in Sodom. It is better to
marry than to burn. But how much more glorious to scale the
mountain-tops than to remain in mean obscurity in wretched
Segor!

To return once more to my subject, it is undoubtedly better
to live slothfully in the spiritual order than to perish utterly in
the life of the world. But how much finer it is to wipe out at
once all the marks of vice and to hasten with burning desire
to the peaks of virtue than to sleep away our time in idleness,
our only safeguard the profession which we have made. It is
as if the promulgator of the Holy Rule were to say to his
hearers: If you take advantage of the concessions which I make,
it is not sinful; but if you do not do so, you shall be rewarded;
you will incur no punishment if you are gentle to yourselves,
but if you renounce indulgence for the Lord's sake you will
win a crown this is for those who are not burdened by sin.
As for the rest, he who knows that he has done unlawful
things must now abstain even from that which is lawful; he
who in his pride has done that which is forbidden must now
humbly renounce that which is permitted. Many who live soft
and easy lives, when they are urged to follow a stricter and
narrower road, plead and argue in their own defence; one of
them will say: I live as I am commanded to do; when I take
advantage of concessions I keep the precepts of the Rule.
Then, that he may seem, as befits a conqueror, to fight from a
superior position, he springs forth into boldness: Does the
Rule deprive me of my liberty to do these things, and others
like them? Does it not rather permit me to do so? Truly,
those who argue in this way have not learned to distinguish
between what the writer wishes and what he is compelled to
permit; they have not recognized the fact that some things are
allowed as concessions, whereas others are the commands of
authority.

Such a man as this must die in the desert, for while he is
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strive to obtain by his labours and struggles the land which is
his right; or else he has established himself with the people of
Reuben and Galaad before crossing the Jordan and so has not
deserved to possess the land flowing with milk and honey with
the other tribes after their victory; he has set a limit to his
efforts. And because while he is still on his journey he believes
that he has akeady reached his home, he does not win his por-
tion of that inheritance in which alone is true rest and abiding
peace.

CHAPTER EIGHT

For our whole new way of life, and our renunciation of the
world, has only one end: rest. But a man can only come to
that state of rest if he stretches his sinews in many labours and
strivings so that, when all the clamour and disturbance is at an
end, the soul may be lifted up by the grace of contemplation
to search for the very face of truth. Since we may only attain
this rest, as I have said, through our labour and strife, how can
any man find it who has not yet engaged in those battles which
are here appointed to us? How can anyone enter the king's
palace without crossing the forecourt which lies outside it?
How shall that man who has not learned to sow seed, who has
not pruned his vine-shoots or broken up the clods of earth
with a hoe or ploughed his virgin fields, gather into his barns
the threshed grain, or fill his casks from the flowing streams of
new wine ?

Now it is well known that Laban had two daughters, and
that Jacob desired the younger of them in marriage, but that
he could not come to her arms until he had taken to himself
her elder sister, unwittingly and therefore unwillingly. But
since you to whom I speak know all this, there is no need for
me to give a lengthy account. Now, Laban means 'cleansing*.
Every man who turns to God is cleansed from the blackness
of sin by the grace of absolution. God Himself promised this,
when He said: 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be
as white as snow.' 1 This that happy sinner declared who said:

1 Isa. i, 18.
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*I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow/ 1
Leah means 'labouring': Rachel means 'the word' or 'the vision
of the beginning'. If we read the Scriptures carefully, we find
that Jacob did not serve for a single day because he desired
Leah, but that he endured all those weeks and years of servi-
tude for Rachel alone; moreover, we find that he bore with the
sight of Leah. Does any man turn to God that he may endure
labour and tribulation, and suffer temptation? Every man who
seeks God does so with one hope and aim: that he may find
rest; that he may rest in the joy of the highest contemplation
as if in the arms of the lovely Rachel; in other words, that
through the word which he hears he may aspire to that vision
of the beginning which he has sought.

But he must be tried in the heat of many battles before he
can attain that quietness of intimate sweetness which he
desires. He must first bear the yoke of slavery, so that after-
wards he may by right be raised to the stature of perfect free-
dom. He serves his seven years under cleansing grace when
he keeps those seven commandments of the Decalogue which
are concerned with love of one's neighbour; so, impelled at
first by fear and bowed down by the yoke of slavery, he may at
least make a start with the commands of the Old Law, so that
he honours his parents, does not commit adultery, does not
kill or steal or bear false witness, or covet another's wife or his
neighbours' goods. When he has observed all these precepts he
is not, as he had hoped, brought straightway to the joys of
contemplation, to enjoy, as it were, the long-awaited beauty
of Rachel; in her stead, he must share his bed with Leah, whom
he does not desire, for while we dwell in the darkness of
human ignorance we are enjoined to be patient in labour. And
yet he has many children of her,' for through his striving he
obtains the rich fruits of spiritual profit.

And so he bears with her, that he may come at last to that
other who he loves without ceasing. He is persuaded to toil in
servitude for another seven years; for it is necessary that he
keep yet another seven commandments, but more freely, being

* Ps. li, 7.

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now no longer a servant of the Law, but a son of the Gospel;
in other words, he must be poor In spirit and meek, he must
mourn, and hunger and thirst after righteousness, he must be
merciful and pure in heart, and finally he must be a peacemaker.
Now, if it were possible, men would wish not to endure labour
and suffer trouble; they would desire to come at once, at the
very beginning of their apprenticeship, to the delights of fair
contemplation. But these things cannot be in the land of the
dying, only in the land of the living; that is the meaning of
what Laban said to Jacob: e lt must not be so done in our
country, to give the younger before the first-born/ 1 And she is
rightly called the elder who comes first in the order of time.
Now in the training of men, the labour of good works comes
before the peace of contemplation. Therefore, when these two
spans of seven years are over, the one of the old law, the other
of evangelic grace, he comes at last to the arms of Rachel
whom he has desired for so long; for he who would attain to
the joys of heavenly contemplation must first strive to fulfil
the precepts of both Testaments.

CHAPTER NINE

But, since no good man is content within the bounds of his
perfection, and desires to bring forth, out of his spiritual
abundance, sons for the Lord, after Jacob had been joined in
marriage to the two sisters he did not hesitate to take to him-
self thek handmaidens also, so that he might sow the seed of a
richer posterity. In order that we may understand that all things
abound in the mysteries of the spirit, the names of the hand-
maidens are shown to have a symbolic meaning also. Now
Bala means 'of long standing'. Certainly, because the human
tongue cannot convey in bare words the meaning of a spiritual
substance, in the teaching of wisdom it sometimes strives to
instruct its hearers by the use of worldly images. These images
are brought to mind from our old life which was given over
to the bodily senses; they are used for our instruction when
1 Gen. xxix, 26.
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we ate listening to something concerning the incomprehen-
sible and unchangeable essence of the Godhead. Rachel, there-
fore, preferred rather to have sons by her handmaid than to
remain completely barren; for the teaching of wisdom, the
grace of contemplation conveys to her hearers by means of
outward knowledge and the forms of visible objects those
things which she hides in the secret places of the mind
concerning things invisible; and so, in a way, she has sons
by her handmaid when she bears spiritual children to the
Lord through that knowledge which is more lowly than
herself,

Zilpab means "open-mouthed*; so this handmaid is the type
of those whose mouths are open in the preaching of the
Gospel, but whose hearts are shut; of whom it was written:
'This people honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is
far from me', 1 and of whom the Apostle says: 'Thou that
preachest a man should not steal, dost thou steal?' 2 Neverthe-
less, Leah received sons from this handmaid to be heirs with
the others; for the active life has gained many sons of the
kingdom through such preachers, of whom Truth Himself
said: C AU whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and
do, but do ye not after their works/ 3 And the Apostle says:
'Every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is preached;
and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.' 4

That is enough from the pages of the holy writings, since I
do not intend to expound the whole of the Scriptures. But let
us remember from all this that just as Jacob took to himself
all those women and had sons by them for Rachel's sake alone,
so whoever, established in cleansing grace, desires to bear
fruit for God out of his spiritual abundance, must strive always
to obtain the grace of contemplation.

CHAPTER TEN
But what shall we say of this, when we see that some who

1 Matt, xv, 8. 2 Rom. ii, 21.

8 Matt, aodii, 3. 4 PhiL i, 18.

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dwell in the house of Laban are so slothful and heedless that
they neither strive for the beauty of Rachel nor toil for Leah ?
Such are those men who, established in a monastery, neither
pursue the grace of contemplation by means of solitude and
persistence in prayer, nor chastise themselves by the severity
of their fasting and labours. They are either completely free
from the bonds of marriage, or else satisfied with the embraces
of the handmaids; because they either have the leisure of the
utterly idle, or if they do anything, do it not with a view to
bringing forth the fruit of the active or the contemplative
lives, but rather that they may appease the hunger of their will
and deskes.

These are they who, whatever they are doing, always want to
be wandering about and rushing from one place to another;
who, since they cannot be calm, wish to appear obedient, and
who therefore conceal the diseases of vice under which they
labour beneath a cloak of righteous behaviour. They are not
worn out by toil for obedience sake; they resolve, rather, to
obey their superiors so that they may not lose the opportuni-
ties which their work provides; for they endure idleness, but
enjoy work, because the roaming about and turning of the
mill of affairs is sweet pleasure to them. For there are some
palsied souls which love to trouble themselves with much
running about. If a man is suffering from the disease of bodily
paralysis he is frequently roused and shaken by his attendants,
so that in this way he may be revived. Truly, these spiritual
paralytics must either be said to be united to the handmaids
alone, in which case their sons have no right of inheritance, or,
if they consider themselves free, do not wish, if I may put it so,
to unite themselves with the handmaids for the sake of the
daughters of Laban, but, reversing the order, desire to be
joined with the daughters for the sake of the handmaids; they
do not toil for obedience' sake, but rather obey in order that
they may toil. Nor do they follow Jacob's example in applying
the fruits of their work to the active and contemplative lives;
if their works show any mark of the active life, or if they say
anything concerning the contemplative life, it is not that they

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seek the fruits of spiritual profit, but only that they strive after
the authority of their own wills.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Moreover (if I may speak angrily) those who follow the
rabble of grammarians, who, forsaking spiritual studies, desire
to learn all the follies of worldly skill, who, despising the rule
of Benedict, love to apply themselves to the rules of Donatus; 1
such as these are of that number. These men are bored by the
intricacies of ecclesiastical teaching and long for worldly know-
ledge; this is like deserting the chaste spouse lying upon the
bridal-couch of faith and consorting with the harlots of the
stage. Seduced by the charms of whores, they reject the free
women, so that when they have broken their marriage-
contract they may be joined to the bondwomen. They have
deserted the daughters of Laban and gone to the women of
the brothels; and so indeed they seem old, like Bala, and
skilled in empty sophistication of speech like Zilpah. No doubt
they will say that the reason why they labour at these frivolities
of worldly learning is so that they may derive richer profit
from their spiritual studies. Did not Jacob endure the em-
braces of the concubines as a result of his wives* pleas ? If it
had been otherwise their children would have borne the stigma
of illegitimacy and could not have shared in the inheritance.
So they look for the support of the authority of the Fathers,
and read them diligently.

They argue, then, that since Holy Scripture allows a wife to
give her handmaiden to her husband so that he may have
children, monks may spend their time in the pursuit of worldly
knowledge. But if Gregory, Jerome and other holy doctors
deny this, then they must know that they have been led astray
by the unlawful love of loose women; and that their behaviour
is equivalent to a treacherous fight against the marriage-
contract. For we are not only forbidden to strive for such
worthless learning after we have made our holy profession;
1 See note i, p. 16.
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we are also commanded to reject all that Is unnecessary of
what we had previously learned. So the law of Moses decrees
that a woman taken in battle and chosen by the victor to be
his wife shall be deprived of all bodily superfluities: 'She shall
shave her head and pare her nails; and she shall put the raiment
of her captivity from off her, and shall remain in thine house,
and bewail her father and her mother a full month: and after
that thou shalt go in unto her, and be her husband, and she
shall be thy wife.' 1 We shave the head of the woman when we
cut away all thoughts and opinions which are unnecessary to
the pursuit of rational learning: we pare her nails when we
prune out the dead works of superstition. And she is com-
manded to lay aside the clothing in which she was captured so
that she may strip off the acquired surface of idle tales and
fictions and show forth the real truth of right reason.

She mourns for her father and mother because we must
believe that the authors of the liberal arts are dead, and weep
with compassion for them, who have perished in error. Now
it is the nature of women that they should be cleansed each
month by an effusion of their blood; and so we are ordered to
go in to this woman after a month, so that when art and learn-
ing have been purified from all taint of superstition we may
receive them in marriage; having become an Israelite she may
be wedded to an Israelite and may yield up a rich offspring of
spiritual works. And all these things certainly apply to those
who while they were in the world were taught the arts of
liberal studies. Moreover, how can it be right for us who are
not permitted to speak even with guests, in whom Christ
Himself is addressed and received, who are not allowed to
open our mouths except to ask a question, and who do not
dare at recreation to discuss even the Holy Scriptures,
to burst in boldly upon the theatrical schools of the gram-
marians and to hold idle conversation with worldly men
as if we were in the middle of a noisy market ? I say all this
against those monks who are involved in the trivialities of
worldly learning so that I may show them how far they have
1 Deut. xxi, 12-13.

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strayed in their vanity from the straight path of righteousness.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Moreover, it is necessary that every brother who with a
perfect heart renounces the world should unlearn whatever he
knows that is harmful and, as far as he can, consign it to per-
petual oblivion. He should be unable to argue the rival merits
of cooks, or care for rich and splendid food; he must lose his
skill in sophisticated or captious conversation, nor may he
make use of rhetorical display by producing ringing declama-
tions, or raise a smile from anyone by his witty or facetious
remarks. Let him love fasting and cherish his lack of the needs
of life; let him fly from the sight of men and bind himself by a
severe silence; let him withdraw from all outward affairs and
keep watch over his lips, so that they do not engage in idle
conversation. Let him seek the secret places of his mind where
he may strive with all his might to see the face of his Creator;
let him long for the grace of tears and entreat his God earnestly
for them in daily prayers. For the moisture of tears cleanses
the soul from all stain and makes fertile the fields of the heart
so that they may bring forth the seeds of virtue. Often the
wretched soul sheds her fruit and the beauty of her leaves as if
touched by the frost of winter; grace ebbs away and she is left
abandoned and barren, stripped of the glory of her fallen
flowers. But as soon as tears well forth, the gift of Him who
sees in secret, the soul flourishes again, the ice of idle sloth is
melted, and like a tree in spring, warmed by the south wind,
she is clothed anew in the flower of her virtues.

The tears which come from God approach the judgment
seat of the divine mercy with perfect confidence, and, obtaining
at once what they ask, are assured of the certain forgiveness of
our sins. Tears are the trustees in the making of peace between
God and man, and true and wise masters in the doublings of
human ignorance. For if we are wondering whether or not we
are pleasing to God, we shall never have greater certitude than
when we pray with genuine tears. Whatever our souls resolve

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upon them need never be doubted again. Tears wash away all
taint of filth from the sinful woman; 1 they give to unclean
hands the right to touch the Lord's head as well as His feet. 2
Because of his tears, the apostle who denied his Lord did not
utterly perish as a result of his sin; indeed, he was given lord-
ship over the other senators of the heavenly court. By the
grace of tears David, after he had sunk into the hellish pit of
adultery and murder, did not lose his kingdom and his life; on
the contrary, he was given an inviolable promise that an hek
would be born of his line who should possess the throne of
his kingdom and all the kingdoms of the earth for ever. Be-
cause of his tears, almighty God added fifteen years to the life
of the dying Hezekiah, and delivered him and the city of
Jerusalem out of the hand of the king of Assyria. By reason of
her tears, the divine mercy brought it about that Sara the
daughter of Raguel was freed from the chains of shameful
taunts, and God chose her in the person of His angel to be the
wife of an honourable man. By her tears, Esther ensured that
God would deliver the people of Israel from their common
danger of death and that the sentence of hanging which he had
prepared for another should be suffered by Haman himself. In
the same way, her tears made it possible for Judith to cut off
the head of Holofernes and to keep the pure flower of her
chastity in the chamber of delight and seduction.

What shall I say of Cornelius the centurion, who through
the grace of tears deserved to be visited by the apostle, and
who at once, forsaking the errors of the Gentiles, was reborn
in Christ to a new life ? Need I remind you of Susannah, who
when she fled to the protection of tears was at once rescued
from the hands of those who were dragging her to her death?
The sentence of death was laid instead upon her false accusers;
thus, by the courage of a young man, innocent blood was
spared. But if I were to tell you of all the graces conferred by
tears, the day would be at an end before I had finished. It is
tears'which cleanse the soul from the stain of sin and strengthen
the wandering mind in prayer. Tears bring forth joy from sad-
i Luke vii, 37-58. a Matt, xxvi, 7.

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ness; when they spring from the eyes of the flesh, they raise us
up to the hope of eternal blessedness. So powerful is their voice
in the ears of the Creator that nothing for which they ask can
be refused; the Psalmist himself often used them as his means
of approach, and that he clearly knew how efficacious they
were is shown from his saying: 'Hear my prayer, O Lord and
give ear unto my cry; hold not thy peace at my tears/ 1 He did
not ask the Lord to behold with His eyes, but to hear with
His ears the tears; this shows clearly that tears have voices. It
is certain that when tears plead in the presence of the loving
Judge, they are never at a loss, but claim mercy as if it were
their right and rejoice with confidence at having obtained
what they asked for. O tears of spiritual joy, better than honey
or the honeycomb and sweeter than any nectar! You who
renew the minds lifted up to God with the pleasant sweetness
of a secret savour and water dry and wasting hearts at their
very core with the stream of heavenly grace! For the sweetness
and savour of earthly banquets delight the palates of those who
eat them, yet do not penetrate to their inmost parts; but the
savour of divine contemplation wholly fills us inwardly, and
there quickens and sweetens us. Weeping eyes strike terror
into the devil, who so fears the assaults of springing tears that
he flees from them as if from hailstones falling from storm-
clouds or a tempest of raging winds. For like a foaming torrent
in spate which washes the river-bed clean of all its filth, a
stream of flowing tears cleanses the soul of the weeper from
the seeds of devilish cunning and all the pestilence of its foul
vices.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

But this water has its source in fire; he who wishes to
abound in these flowing streams must first kindle in the fur-
nace of his heart the fire of divine love. I can explain this more
clearly if I remind you of certain historical events recounted
in the second book of Maccabees. The Scriptures say: 'When
our fathers were led into Persia, the priests, who were then

1 Ps. xrsix, 12.
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worshippers of God, took fire from the altar and hid it secretly
in a valley where there was a deep dry well and they put it in
safety into the well, so that the place where they had hidden
it was unknown to any. Many years later it pleased God that
Nehemiah should be sent by the king of the Persians; he sent
the kinsmen of those priests who had hidden the fire to search
for it; and as they have told us, they found no fire, but thick
water.' 1 Of all this, what is important from the spiritual point
of view is this: that in the first place fire was hidden in the deep
dry well in the valley, and afterwards the searchers found not
fire but thick water. The deep dry well may fittingly be said to
represent the soul which searches for God with genuine and
perfect intent; for such a soul is barren of the flowing delights
of carnal pleasure and has dug deeply beneath the rubble of
earthly desires; it is to be found in the valley of true humility.
The sacrificial fire is put into this well when the flame of divine
love springs up in the soul of one of the elect and the holy
soul burns with heavenly desire. But the fire is turned into
water, for from the fire of divine love spring the tears of
remorse.

It is noteworthy that the water which was found was said to
be not pure but thick. This thick water certainly symbolizes
the tears of compunction, thickened without doubt by the rich
fat of divine grace. The Prophet longed to be nourished by
this fat when he said: 'My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow
and fatness/ 2 And the same fatness was promised by another
prophet, who said: 'Your soul shall delight itself in fatness/ 3
Again, it was said: 'May the Lord remember all thy offerings
and accept thy fat burnt-sacrifice/ 4

Nor must we overlook the fact that those who hid away this
fire simply put it in a safe place; they did not extinguish it.
This is certainly because the fire of divine love, which we
kindle on the altar of our heart so that we may, at the very
beginning of our new life, offer a sweet sacrifice to God from
the spices of our good works, must always burn secretly within

1 2 Mace, i, 19-20. 2 Ps. Ixiii, 5.

3 Isa. Iv, 2. 4 Ps. xx, 3.

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us; but it must not spread outwardly the flames of vainglory.
It is made safe by the quieting of its own flames, but it is not
robbed of the strength of its heat; and so it is not completely
destroyed, but later the fire is miraculously turned into water.
And this water of the tears of compunction not only cleanses
us from the contagion of sin; it also commends our good^ works
to God and makes them pleasing in His sight. Any sacrifice of
good works becomes sweet in the eyes of the heavenly Judge
if it is sprinkled with the tears of a contrite heart. So it will not
come amiss if we add: 'And Nehemiah the priest commanded
that the sacrifices which were laid there and the wood and all
that was laid on the altar should be sprinkled with that water.' 1

As soon as we pour the water of compunction on the
sacrifice of our deeds, a brightness shines upon our souls and
makes light whatever was dark in them, or lay hidden in
shadow. Then a certain ray of secret light reveals itself to us,
and pours into all the hidden places of our soul a new clarity of
sweet splendour. That is why, in the passage to which I refer,
after it is stated 'Nehemiah the priest commanded that some of
the water should be drawn and brought to him and sprinkled
on the sacrifices which were laid there and the wood and all
that was laid on the altar', the history goes on to say: 'This
was done, and the time was at hand, and the sun, which had
been in a cloud, shone forth once more; and a great fire was
kindled, so that all were astonished.' 2

We have akeady been told that water was found in the place
of fire; now on the other hand we hear that through the
sprinkling of water a great fire was kindled. So water is born
of fire, and then in its turn fire is produced from water. This is
because the grace of compunction springs from the fire of
divine love, and in their turn tears of compunction increase
the strength of heavenly desire. Each depends on the other,
and each is responsible for the other, for tears of compunction
flow from our love of God, and on the other hand, because of
our tears, our souls burn more fiercely with love of God. The
soul in which this mutual change and alternation takes place

1 2 Mace, i, 21- 2 Ibid., 22.

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will certainly be washed clean of the stains of its guilt. That is
why the Scripture goes on to say: 'And Nehemiah called that
place Nephthar, which means "purification".* 1 The place in
which we offer sacrifice, in which water and fire carry out their
mutual task, is the faithful soul. It too may fittingly be called
'purification', for at times it is consumed by the fire of heavenly
love, and at others it is cleansed by the tears of a contrite heart,
as if it were being washed in the waters of a second baptism.

Isaiah had a deep insight into these alternating changes and
varieties of spiritual mutation; did he not say: 'Thy light shall
arise in obscurity and thy darkness shall be as the noonday;
and the Lord will give thee an everlasting rest, and fill thy soul
with brightness, and shall deliver thy bones* ? 2 That is the fire
hidden in the well. See how this fire is turned into water: 'And
thou shalt be as a watered garden and as a spring of water that
never faileth.' Lastly, that you may know that this water is
changed once more into fire, and that the fervour of divine
love is increased by the grace of tears, he adds: 'Then shalt
thou delight in the Lord, and I will lift thee up above the high
places of the earth.' 3

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I feel that I cannot pass over in silence a certain thing which
happened to me. When I had written as far as this, the Lord's
Day intervened, and then certain matters came to light, and
my concern for them further prevented me from going on
with writing this. Then a certain boy named Sylvester who
was concerned in the writing let me give myself due credit;
I did not dictate it to him, but when I had written it on tablets
he would copy it onto parchment was misled by so cunning
a wile of our wicked enemy that he burst suddenly into tears,
and could hardly check their floods by night or day, except at
the hours of eating and sleeping; he refused to take any wine,
and sustained himself on the barest modicum of food; but he
slept as much as he possibly could. In the meantime, the devil

1 Ibid. 2 Isa. Iviii. 8 Isa. Iviii, 14.

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put it into his head that he should seek the solitude of the upper
hermitage, where he would rarely, if ever, see any of his fellow
men; when we offered him the chance of becoming a true
recluse, however, he replied that he did not at all want to
become a completely enclosed hermit, but wished to live some-
where where he could be free and alone, and his comings and
goings would not be watched over. Naturally, all the brothers
were agreed in opposing this piece of stubbornness, and de-
clared that this was probably nothing but a trick and a wile of
Satan. But he was stubborn and wilful, believing in the authority
of his flowing tears, and remained immovable in the desire
by which he had been seized at the suggestion of our wicked
foe. I think that our old enemy had stumbled upon a suitable
instrument for misleading when he saw what Sylvester himself
had copied down a little earlier in this very work that when
we are not sure whether or not we are pleasing to God, we
will never have greater reassurance than when we pray with
genuine tears. He did not heed what was written just before:
that only those tears which come from God approach the
judgement seat of the divine mercy, not those which are in-
duced by the stratagems of the cunning waylayer.

In his negligence he overlooked the fact that I said: 'All
those who truly weep/ For he weeps not truly, but falsely
whose false tears are sent by the lying spirit. The blessed Pope
Gregory wrote of a similar situation in his Moralia, when he
said: 'But the hand of remorse weighs very carefully these
vices which the old enemy hides under appearances of virtue.
He who truly grieves inwardly over his outward actions fore-
sees clearly what should not be done. For if the force of com-
punction deeply affects us, all the clamour of evil suggestion is
silenced at once. And if our heart is truly grieved within us,
our vices will not be able to speak against us.' You see that the
great doctor, whose opinions here agree with my own foolish
sayings, does not say *If our heart is grieved within us*, but
c lf our heart is truly grieved within us'. He clearly implies that
the sorrow which pierces the soul which God has breathed
upon is one thing, but that which produces, by the deceit of

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our cunning adversary, feigned tears, which only seem to come
from a sorrowing heart, is quite another; and that those tears
which the spirit of lies and error simulates are one thing and
quite different from those by which the Spirit of Truth washes
away the filth and rust from our souls.

To return to the substance of my story because he was
given permission to live in a solitary place a short while ago,
he was rash enough to cut himself off completely, and used to
wander in vagabond fashion to other places; but he simply put
his trust in his tears and utterly refused to take any notice of
impartial advice; nor did he believe that it was possible that
he should be in any way misled, since remorse daily flooded
him with frequent streams of tears. What next? The egg which
the viper was cherishing in the nest of his bosom hatched out
at last its familiar offspring. For Sylvester begged to be
allowed to look for a little while at a book which was very
precious to me; and he cut out from its centre by stealth four
quaternions, then, frightened by the pangs of conscience, and
not wishing to be bound in chains, he stood in front of his
cell, threatening to wound with his knife either himself or any-
one else who came near him. It was then abundantly clear that
the sort of tears he produced did not come from heavenly dew,
but had gushed forth from the bilge-water of hell. I have told
you all this, brethren, not to magnify the disgrace of our
offending brother, but so that you may endeavour to be careful
and vigilant even where good things are concerned.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I should now like to give a short account of the various
offices of the monastery, and to set forth the things which it is
right that those who administer these offices should observe.

In the first place, therefore, O venerable abbot, do what you
command others to do, practise what you preach, fulfil your
own orders; your way of life must not be at variance with
your words, there must be no distinction between what you
do and what you say; the authority of the ruler must not teach

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one thing while the behaviour of the monk proclaims another.
Let your journeys outside the monastery be infrequent, so that
you may always be able to cultivate and water the seed of the
word which you have scattered. You must not, because of
your continual running about, seem like a visitor in your own
monastery; rather, your long staying and scrupulous serious-
ness must show you to be a dweller within it, a member of the
household. Let the preacher be vouched for by his fasting and
abstinence; the gullet of the banqueter must not assail the
statements of the speaker. It is beyond question that the hand
which carries food and drink to the mouth in moderation is a
better teacher of sobriety than the tongue of the glutton is
when it speaks. Besides, it is a forceful method of preaching,
and one most effective in the souls of one's disciples, to urge
others to eat but to keep a rigorous fast oneself while doing so.
Stretch the rod over those who offend in such a way that
you keep the impulses of your own anger in strict restraint.
Meanwhile, when you utter threats, when you strike the
guilty with terror, turn your eyes upon yourself, consider the
measure of human weakness, and carefully weigh the fact
that you yourself could well be reproved, if anyone had the
authority to do so; and do not be surprised if one of those
subject to you chances to offend by not fulfilling all that you
have commanded, when the weakness of human nature is such
that the members of your own body cannot be completely
subject to you in all things. Let me give you proof of what I
say. Command your eyes not to be surprised by sloth, and
your heart not to allow entrance to fantastic thoughts; declare
chastity to the organs of reproduction, that they may not be
roused by incentives of pleasure; preach temperance to the
palate, so that it does not long for more delicious food; finally,
command your whole body not to lay itself open to the on-
slaughts of disease. And when you have clearly proved that
they demand your trust, but cannot altogether deserve it, do
not be surprised that you are unable to discern a perfect
obedience in all things in those who differ from you in charac-
ter and behaviour. Certainly, if you consider all this intelli-

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gently, you will bear the aberrations of brotherly frailty with
equanimity.

If the patrimony of your house is enlarged, if you have an
abundance of goods, if the house of God is enriched, do not
claim it as a result of your own merits or endeavour, but
ascribe it to Divine aid. For this reason, call to mind the time
before you held office, and remember that none of these things
came to you then. It is obvious that they were given not to
you but to the Church of Christ, and that you would not have
obtained them without Him.

Do not shudder at the idea of dining at the monastic table,
nor take pleasure in private banquets; you must not think that
those who share with you the common table of the altar are
unfit to partake of bodily nourishment with you. Do not,
therefore, let your absence give rise to the suspicion that you
are dining privately, for this will mean that your good name
will be troubled by pestilential murmurers and detractors. Nor
should you care much about the quality of what is going to fill
the privy; you should rather concern yourself with those
things through which the love of the brethren may be united
in Christ by the bonds of mutual charity.

Do not squander the goods of the monastery, nor seek to
win general popularity for yourself at the expense of the com-
mon good. For if we believe that those who enrich churches
gain remission of their sins, we must also certainly hold that
those who impoverish and destroy them are bound by the
heavy chains of sacrilege; and so the latter are liable to punish-
ment for their sins in the same way that the others are found to
have been absolved from the bonds of sin. Beware when you
are surrounded by the obsequiousness of kinsmen, when you
are sweetly smeared with the words of yes-men, lest this lord-
ship and deep reverence should be so flattering to your soul
that evilly-alluring thoughts will convince you that you are in
fact worthy of all this (which God forbid). The happier a
steward is in the size of what is committed to his care, the
more wretched will he be when he has to render an account;
the amount which he will owe when he comes to render

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account will be proportional to the pleasure he took in the
large amount that was committed to him. What St. Benedict
says must inspire great fear: 'The abbot must give an account
of all the souls committed to his charge, as well as of his own
soul/ 1 And so let us consider how right it is that he who in the
dreadful judgement will come to his own examination bur-
dened with the reckonings of others should now be overawed
by fear. But it is the nature of teachers to teach rather than to
learn, so let these few words suffice; for those who are ap-
pointed to preach their own sermons may well weary of
listening to mine.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The prior of the monastery will carry out the duties of his
priorship properly if he does not dispute the wishes of the
abbot, and if he strengthens the souls of the brethren, as far
as he is able, in a sincere love of the same abbot. Joseph, when
he was overseer of his master's household, was unwilling to
the last to attract to himself the desire of his master's wife, but
taught her that she should remain steadfast in the love of her
own husband. And that noble servant of Abraham, a mighty
man, and of a deep humanity, counted all his service as
nothing, that he might provide a wife for his lord in good
faith; he forgot all his toil and his mighty journey; he con-
cerned himself with everything that cropped up in the matter
that he might fight on behalf of his lord alone. Just as the abbot
must stir up his sons to the love of Christ by everything that
he does, so the prior should endeavour to foster in the brethren
a united love of their abbot, for fear that any jealousy should
emerge (which God forbid). And so he must not be over-
gentle with the faults of offenders in order to make the abbot
seem cruel, but in the latter's absence the prior must so reprove
all wrongdoing that the abbot on his return may rest in the
joy of brethren who are filled with spiritual delight as if he
were in the heart of a peaceful harbour.

1 R. S. B. c, 2.

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He must therefore maintain a strict severity in correcting
transgressors, nor must he allow the accustomed discipline of
the rule to grow lukewarm in his house. He must be inflexible
in his justice, so that the abbot may appear tender in his
clemency. He must be insistent in his demands, so that the
abbot may have the opportunity of making concessions out of
fatherly love. Moses, the faithful servant, brought to us the
commandments of naked justice; Christ, our truly loving Lord,
tempered the harsh severity of the Law. But Aaron, who
showed a sinful people that he was weak and pliant, joined
with them in making idols for sacrilegious rites. The prior is
like the veil which was hung before the ark of the covenant;
he shields the abbot from all outward affairs. He meets with all
the dust which rises from the highway of the world, to which
he is continually exposed; the abbot, like the ark of the Lord,
abides in the purity of his splendour. The prior is like Aaron
in that he is the abbot's mouthpiece and speaks to the people;
the abbot, like Moses, delights in divine conversations in all
those things which relate to God. And so both of them to-
gether, joining together in unity of spirit, will, if it is possible,
nourish for God such children that no posterity can succeed
them in their right to enter into their heavenly inheritance.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The bell-ringer must realize that no one in the monastery
should avoid forgetfulness more surely than he. If any hour of
the office is not said at the proper time, either because it is too
early or because it is too late, it is clear that the whole order
of the hours to come will be upset. Because of this, he must
not waste time in chatting, or holding long conversations with
other people, nor must he ask questions about what is going
on in the world. He must always pay the greatest attention to
the charge committed to him, being watchful and careful,
knowing that the turning globe does not pause in its course,
and always considering the passage of the stars and the running
out of fleeting time. And let him acquire the habit of reciting

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the Psalter, if he wishes to have a daily method of telling the
time; so that when he cannot see the brightness of the sun or
the movement of the stars because of thick cloud, the number
of psalms which he has got through will act as a sort of clock,
enabling him to judge the time. It is certain that the custom of
congregating in the church when bells are rung comes from a
mystical tradition of the Old Law, for the Lord commanded
Moses: 'Make thee two trumpets of silver that thou mayest use
them for the calling of the assembly and for the journeying of
the camps; and when they shall blow with them, all the
assembly shall assemble themselves to thee at the door of the
tabernacle of the congregation/ 1 Just as the people of Israel
flocked to the tabernacle at the sound of the trumpets, so today
the faithful hasten to the church when they hear the clamour
of the bells.

Nor is there any disharmony in the fact that the trumpets
are said to have been used for shifting camp, since camps are
part of the preparation for battle. A little farther on, the text
says: 'And if ye go to war in your land against the enemy that
oppf esseth you, then ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets;
and ye shall be remembered before the Lord your God, and ye
shall be saved from your enemies.' 2 We march out to battle
like a camp when we hasten to church to pray or sing the
Office, if I may put it so. For there the princes of darkness
wage deadly war against us, so that by distracting our minds
with fantastic thoughts they may turn them from the words
which our lips are uttering. And indeed what a splendid army
it is, especially at night, when the brethren, aroused as if by
the sound of the trumpet, form a wedge and marching like an
ordered battle-column come forth inspired and ready for action
in battle on the Lord's behalf. The wing of boys marches in
front, followed by the band of the company of young men;
last of all, following in their footsteps come the mature men,
our chief strength in battle, who guard the rear of the whole
army, lest any should fall or the hidden enemy attack.

A lantern is borne in the first rank of the army as a symbol

1 Num. x, 2-3. a Ibid., 9.

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of the column of fire which went before the people of Israel in
the desert. For indeed, just as the companies of Christ go forth
to eat the heavenly manna, so did the legions of die true
Israelites hasten to gain the land flowing with milk and honey.
They go forth with sounding trumpets to the tabernacle of the
Covenant to eat the banquet of the Heavenly Word, to offer to
God the sacrifice of praise, and to fulfil the promises of good-
will. That is why the Scriptures go on to say: Also in the day
of your gladness, and in your solemn days and in the beginning
of your months, ye shall blow with the trumpets over your
burnt-offerings and over the sacrifices of your peace-offerings;
that they may be to you for a memorial of your God/ 1 From
these and similar words let the bell-ringer take careful note as
to how watchful and careful it behoves him to be in the office
which has been assigned to him; lest through his carelessness
he should bring disorder to so great a work and to the rules of
his order.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The refectory reader must carefully consider how clearly and
plainly and intelligibly he ought to read; for he provides the
food of the soul at the same time as the brethren are receiving
refreshment for the body. Others offer bodily food, which will
soon be turned into rottenness; he gives the word of God,
which will not pass away even though heaven and earth should
pass away. He must therefore read in such a way that while the
flesh is fed with its gifts the soul may be nourished with
heavenly banquets.

Reading is for the benefit of the hearer rather than of the
reader; so the reader must not strive to make others talk of his
own merits; rather, he must concern himself with the edifica-
tion of others. He must not heed what is said about the reader,
but what may be understood of the reading. Those who eat
must be reminded that their meal should be so ruled by tem-
perance that the noise of grinding jaws does not block up the
channels to the ears. The hand must be restrained, and act as

1 Num. x, 10.

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mediator between mouth and table, and hold itself in check
with the bridle of severity, so that the starving soul is not
forced to abstain from divine nourishment while the throat is
fed with earthly food.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The cellarer, who has been appointed as a sort of father to
the monastery, must perform the task committed to him with
such skill in economic management that he carefully checks
his openhandedness, and at the same time avoids being close-
fisted; he must be frugal in generosity and generous in frugal-
ity. Above all, he must beware lest he mistake niggardliness for
frugality and prodigality for generosity. For vice often cloaks
itself under the appearance of virtue, and the more any evil has
the appearance of good, the more difficult it is to reform. The
good administrator will minister to the needs of the body in
such a way that he also shows concern for the health of the
soul; by his frugality he will encourage temperance, while by
his generosity he will ensure that the evil of murmuring does
not arise. For often, as a most wise man has said, liberality
destroys liberality; that is to say, goods are carelessly lavished
on those who have no need of them, so that afterwards there
is nothing left to give to those who, being truly in need, ought
to be supplied.

He must therefore refuse to give more than is necessary to
our own brethren, in order that he may have something left
over from which to give alms to those not of our household.
Nehemiah, so that he might receive at his own table those that
came to him from the heathen that were about him, would
have thought it shame to spare his flocks; and he ordered the
demands upon his own income in such a way that he could
perform works of charity to strangers. Tobias, when he was so
poor that his wife had to work as a weaver, divided the little
that he had so that he might give some comfort to his fellow-
captives. And so, himself a pilgrim, he did not allow loving-
kindness to be a stranger to him, and although poor in pos-

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sessions, he did not lack the riches of a splendid charity. When
Abigail carried away part of a splendid banquet she turned the
sword of David, hastening to avenge an insult, away from the
throat of her husband; and so she did well to take food from
the mouths of her own household, so that by giving it to
strangers she might save their lives. Paul commands that on
the first day of each week each man should set something aside,
so that by the kindness of the Corinthians it may be sent to the
needy saints at Jerusalem. We must, therefore, supply the
brethren with the daily necessities of life in such a way that
we remember, if our goods are sufficient, to succour strangers
in their need. The cellarer must be the steward of the Church,
not a distinguisher of persons but one who considers weak-
nesses; not a seeker after favour but a supporter of others in
their helplessness; he must make just distributions of fair por-
tions to the needy, whom a diversity of frailty distinguishes,
having a regard for the proper stewardship of his office. In
this way, there will be no breeding-ground for scandal; that is,
if he bestows on each man what he needs and not what he
wishes.

CHAPTER TWENTY

And now, since we are embracing the whole body of this
holy monastery in the outstretched arms of brotherly love, we
have decided to make a distinction between the different age-
groups, and to give to each such advice as seems most fitting.
I will begin with those who are just starting out: you must
learn, who are yet boys, that you are at the pliant age; you are
still delicate because of the frailty of your bodies, and also may
be bent by different sorts of behaviour. The farther you are
from being fully-grown branches, as Pythagoras says, the
easier it is either to guide you to the right or to deflect you
down the left-hand slope. But if the clay suffers any injury in
the potter's hands, this, if it is not corrected at once, will after-
wards become as hard as stone, nor can it be remedied. A twig
springing straight from the root which becomes bent for any
reason will never be made straight again if it remains bent for

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any length of time, and since it is obviously useless as a spear-
shaft will be used as food for the greedy flames.

And so beware, lest any vice should increase with the
growth of your body, lest the knots of any perversity should
harden within you; rather, be vessels of honour and not of
reproach, ready for any good work in the house of the Lord.
If you desire to shine with the uprightness of manhood, and to
abound in virtue without wearying yourselves with labour
(which is not possible for others), take up at once the weapons
of continence, and fight with all your strength against the
violent temptations of the flesh. At this, the very beginning ^of
your apprenticeship, assure yourselves of certain victory with
God on your side; boldly wage implacable war on the hostile
spirits, carrying before you the standard of the Cross. Tread
your pride underfoot, crush envy, curb your tongue with a
strict silence, let meditation on the Scriptures quench the
desires of the palate; your tongue must not utter detraction,
nor give countenance to it by listening to it. Solomon says:
"Meddle not with detractors; for their calamity shall arise sud-
denly, and who knoweth the ruin of them both?' 1 The ruin,
that is to say, of him who detracts, and of him who listens to
the detractor. It is not, however, detraction to reveal a brother's
fault to him whose duty it is to correct it.

It is easy to see that this is particularly true of boys, since
they cannot be suspected of the desire to harm or to denounce.
Joseph in his father's presence accused his brethren of great
wickedness; yet although this meant that he incurred their
hatred, the final consequence was that he gained lordship over
them. Jonathan and Ahimaaz, hidden near a well in En-Rogel,
sent a messenger to King David, telling him to flee swiftly
from Absalom; and so Zadok and Abiathar did through their
sons what they could not do themselves. Often the young
men will uncover a fault which the older and wiser can then
reform for the good of all. Do not, however, now that you are
growing up, wrongly debate the merits of your superiors; do
not concern yourselves with the path which they follow, but

1 Prov. xxir, 21-22,
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remember whose authority they represent, and be humbly
subject to them in Christ. For, as St. Paul says: 'We have had
fathers of our flesh who corrected us, and we gave them
reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection to the
fathers of the spirit, and live P' 1 Samuel learned from Heli what
to reply to the Lord when He called him; and because he was
subject in all humility to the wicked priest, he heard the words
of divine revelation. When a spirit troubled proud Saul,
David did not refuse to serve him by playing his harp. 2

In order that you may be able to quench the flames of desire,
shun the enticements of the palate which kindle those flames
and are like oakum, naphtha, pitch and fire-darts. For that
fourth one who appeared among the young men in the fiery
furnace will bring to you the consolation of His spirit, like a
rain-bearing wind. And so in all things you must lay aside the
playthings of childhood, and dedicate to the Lord the begin-
ning of your noviciate through the native qualities of your
noble state. Follow Him as a leader among the struggles
against temptation; seek Him as your protector in the peaceful
days of good fortune. Surrounded, therefore, by the invincible
spears of the virtues, cry together to Christ your champion;
Tlead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me: fight
against them that fight against me. Take hold of shield and
buckler, and stand up for mine help/ 3 When you are brought
to perfect manhood, to the measure of the stature of His ful-
ness, He will give you the victory by His own strength. He
will cause you to place your triumphant feet on the necks of
your enemies. I would advise you also to read the letter which
I sent to my kinsman Marinus.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As for you young men, you growing youths, you have the

more need of the mighty aid of exhortation, since you endure

harsher struggles with the lusts of the flesh. For it is upon you

that all the forces of the enemy charge in direct assault, upon

1 Heb. xii, 9. a i Sam, xvi. 3 Ps. xxxv, 1-2.

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you that the chief weight of the war presses. You are assailed
by thick showers of all kinds of darts; the wicked spirits are
gathered against you with all the vices of the flesh, and they
hurl down violent storms upon you. Wars rage in your very
bones, and the furnace of your body belches forth balls of fire
like restless Vesuvius or fiery Etna. Because of this, it is neces-
sary that the more bitterly your self-mastery is assailed, the
more strongly you must persevere. Those who are struck by
javelins while they brandish their own spears, and who are
wounded when they desire to wound others will be in serious
difficulties. For we must either put our enemies to flight or
flee ourselves; either turn our backs or drive our enemies
before us. In this battle we must either conquer or be over-
thrown; he who does not win a glorious victory will suffer a
shameful defeat. There is always the danger that when the
enemy army is surrounded, it will be strengthened by a troop
of rebellious citizens, or that while the army is drawn up to
join in battle the entrance to the camp will be opened up by
treacherous inhabitants. For the vices which dwell within us
join with our tempters in tempting us, and increase the power
of the wicked demons.

Wherefore, dearly beloved, take up the weapons of temper-
ance, humility, patience, obedience, chastity, charity and all the
other virtues and fight, not for towns and fields, not for sons
or wives, but for your very souls, which are more important
than any love or friendship. Above all, so that your new man-
hood may be strengthened, you must fast and pray; so that
fasting may subdue the vigour of the flesh and prayer raise
your soul up to God. But do not forget the fact that those who
fast indiscriminately fail to gather the fruit of their fasting;
whatever they abstain from on one day, they eat on another,
satisfying their hunger as they please. And so it comes about
that the day of fasting wages war against the next day, and
before today's meals have been digested, our empty stomachs
are eating the banquet prepared for tomorrow; and when we
long for something different from and richer than the common
fare, all the remedies of the apothecary will need to be em-

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ployed, not without inconvenience to the servants. He may
therefore be said to fast well who is content with the common
fare on the days when he eats; for if he eats the same food as
those who eat daily, he will not exceed the measure of what
they eat. Neither, however, must you, in making too much of
fasting, forsake obedience, which is the golden highway to
Heaven.

Now I will tell you something which I did not hear at
second hand, but saw with my own eyes. There was a certain
monk at Pomposa named Raimbald, the brother of that most
venerable Peter who is now abbot of Vincentia. He was in the
habit of subduing his young body with frequent fasts, and at
the very beginning showed signs in many ways of his truly
remarkable gifts. He was given the task of ministering to a
certain German anchorite who had had his eyes put out and
his right hand cut off, and lived a laborious life near the
church. Now it was a rule of the monastery that no cloister-
monk should speak when he was outside the house. On one
occasion when Raimbald complained bitterly in chapter that he
could not possibly instruct inexperienced boys to wash the
clothes of the servant of God or tell them what food to prepare
for him by means of signs, declaring and maintaining that un-
less he broke silence he could hardly obey his orders, that
holy man Abbot Guido vehemently opposed him, refusing to
absolve him from the duty of silence, and remained unmoved
in the judgment he had already given; at last, after a good deal
of talk, it came to this, that Raimbald should be ordered to
relinquish this task and to keep quiet. But how swift is the
sternness of divine retribution! Before half a day had elapsed
Raimbald declared in tears that he had been struck in the
throat with dreadful agony by a hand from above. What then?
If I am not mistaken, he died three days afterwards, having
made satisfaction and received the blessing of his holy father.

We have told you this about one of our own number, dearly
beloved, that you may remember that holy obedience must
never be neglected for the sake of any good work or act of
devotion. Be very careful also in the battle against your

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temptations, always -watchful, always wary, so that the time of
temptation may pass, and you may not accomplish in action
what was suggested to you in thought. For often in worldly
battles that may occur in an instant which no length of time,
however great, can afterwards hope to alter. On the other
hand, he who is on his guard against a single wounding stroke
may in that brief moment win greater length of life. You know
what I am talking about: often a man will slip suddenly into
the whirlpool of a sin which he must of necessity weep for as
long as he lives. Therefore in every moment of temptation we
must watch with great shrewdness, for fear that that tempta-
tion should achieve its end; but if a wicked deed is put off for a
short space of time, we may escape it altogether; in avoiding the
sudden blow, we enable ourselves afterwards to live a long life
in safety.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Those who are but newly come to the order of religion
must be reminded that they should first of all take up the
struggle against greed; so that when the belly is forced to
observe the laws of temperance the fires of lust will as a result
be checked even in those parts which lie beneath the belly. The
tongue must be restrained from idle chatter, and indeed from
too much talking of any kind with the brethren or anyone else;
so that the less it has been worn out by the interchanges and
circumlocutions of empty wordiness, the more free it may be
to occupy itself with prayer and the praise of God. Let your
eye wear out the floor with its ceaseless looking, and your soul
be raised on the scaffold of burning desire to heaven. Let each
substance consider its origin, so that while the flesh is con-
vinced that it is itself no more than the dust which it beholds,
the soul, raised up to that which it has lost, may long for it
with eager and unfailing desire. Let your poverty and need
cause you to favour rough and tagged clothing; in the cold of
winter wear poor and despised garments. Long-deferred and
quickly-descending sleep will soften your hard bed. The soft-

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ness of his couch means little to the man who is thinking only
of the period of peace which is granted to him; nor does he
who desires, like Macarius, to spend watchful nights intent in
prayer long, like Sardanapalus, to float on a bed of feathers.
Keep away from public places; flee from the sight of men.
Search for unfrequented places, go into hidden and remote
retreats. For secret prayers storm heaven, and carry off forgive-
ness when they are poured forth often in the shadows by the
light of heaven.

Do not reply to offered insults by being insulting in your
turn; but let the moderation of your reply sweeten the bitter-
ness of your taunter; and if you cannot easily do this, let your
angry tongue be curbed by a strict silence, for fear a dangerous
quarrel should arise. A ship under full sail is often sunk by the
raging winds; but if her sail-yard is lowered, all the force of
the gale batters her in vain. And so the shafts of the reviler
will not find their mark if the soul of the reviled abases itself
in humility. The novice must often attempt great things, so
that lesser ones may be made easy by comparison.

What I am saying at such length is this: Drink muddy or
lukewarm water often so that, spurning the desire for wine,
you may think that clear cold water is enough for you. Often
serve a bran-loaf, so that you may have an appetite for ordinary
bread, and not look for loaves made with fine wheaten flour.
A man who has lain on a couch of cushions will not be content
with a patchwork quilt; but he will be satisfied with a litter of
straw in any place if he has been wearing out the bare floor
with his flanks. He who is made sick by oil after he has eaten
meat should live on salt vegetables for some time, so that his
throat may know the sweetness of a sober drink. He who takes
pleasure in an unaccustomed journey on horseback should con-
fine himself within the narrow walls of his cell, and then the
cloisters of the monastery will seem like a market-place to him.
A man may, if he is used to sable and ermine, scorn sheep's
wool; but if he is clothed in rags, it is a matter of indifference
to him whether he be kept warm by exotic or homely skins.
Moses fasted on the mountain for twice forty days from all

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food and drink, so that he might be content with manna alone,
and not desire to sit by the fleshpots with the other Israelites.
The sons of the prophets did not refuse to cut up bitter apples
for their pot, so that they might not scorn any vegetable. When
Daniel was forced to live among the fierce and gaping jaws of
the lions, he learned never to fear again the wiles of wicked
men. When Nebuchadnezzar suffered the senselessness of a
brute beast, when he wandered through thick woods and
forest pastures like a wild animal, he was changed so that he
should not take pride in the dignity of his royal power. When
David was cast down from the glory of his royal throne by his
own son, he learned not to avenge himself on Shimei the
stranger. We must certainly believe that after Isaiah had gone
naked and barefoot for three years, he no longer felt the need
for soft or superfluous garments.

Whoever wishes, therefore, to make any task or labour easy
for himself must go forth boldly and try a higher and more
difficult thing; so that harshness may lighten harshness, and
nettles may be made bearable, so to speak, in comparison with
rough and thorny brambles. I do not wish to imply that you
should not begin with the lesser things; what I mean is that
when you attempt more difficult things, these lesser ones will
be made light by comparison. The novice must be careful
about this, when in striving after things hard to attain he enters
the narrow way; when he begins to be tried beyond his
strength he should return at once to easier ways. If a needle is
driven violently into a hard substance, it will break unless it is
drawn out carefully; but if a shoemaker thrusts it in and out
with his cobbler's skill, it will pierce easily through any solid
substance which it encounters. The same is true of us at the
beginning of our new way of life: if we strive for a time and
then relax, if we alternate between pressing forward through
harsh and difficult ways and resting by sparing ourselves, we
will soon find that a road will open which will pass easily
through all obstacles.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I must not overlook you holy old men, who have the mote
need of caution in battle in that the end of your striving is
near at hand. For it follows that if you should be defeated now,
you will be unable to regain the glory of your lost victory.
Now, therefore, the fervent must be kindled to mighty deeds;
the old man must take to himself the strength of youth in
order to vanquish the barbarous vices. Now indeed your feet
are on the threshold of the city; now you are drawing near,
through the central gates, to the repose of a blessed peace.

Renounce idleness then, and lay aside sloth; do not let the
remembrance of the long labours you have accomplished hold
you back, when the reward offered draws you on to undergo
new hardships which lie before your eyes. The deeper a
searcher for gold has dug into the vein in the earth, the more
eagerly and firmly does he gird himself up in order to finish
the rest of his work. The work he has done does not drain his
strength as much as the hope of the treasure which is coming
nearer and nearer impels him to his endeavours in digging up
the soil. He who is hastening to a wedding-feast as a grooms-
man has no reason to long for an early breakfast beforehand.
For behold! the beeves and fadings of the gospel are killed., and
all things are ready. The voice of the herald is heard: c Come to
the wedding.' Why should anyone want to anticipate his
pleasures who is soon going to feast on wedding dishes ? Why
should he want to belch before he has sat down ? Why should
he fill himself with swine's husks who is hastening towards the
food of angels ? Why should he not hold back from a starved
satiety of his pleasures now, when the highest and most perfect
happiness of heavenly glory awaits him? Why should he not
now curb his tongue and refrain from gossip and idle talk who
is looking forward to an eternal and most intimate contem-
plation of the very Word by whom all things were made?
Why should he not for the sake of austerity avoid the company
of his fellows, when he is moving towards the court of the
everlasting emperor and the heavenly senators ? Why should

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he shudder at being covered with rough garments, who is to
be clothed in the robe of immortality?

And so do not be ashamed to abstain from all the pleasures
of the world for the sake of abounding in the riches of the
delights of heaven; we do this so that our souls may not cleave
to created things but may long even more for the embrace of
the Creator. For he who approaches the threshold of the royal
palace after a long journey would be considered insane if he
was so concerned with the buildings that he did not yearn to
see the king's face. Do not let the weakness of an exhausted
body destroy your hope of mighty deeds; for if you have the
Spirit in your heart he will give you inward strength and
power. Thus Caleb, because he had zealously kept the Lord's
commandments said, still vigorous with the strength of his
youth: 'I am this day four score and five years old. As yet I am
as strong this day as I was in the day that Moses sent me: as
my strength was then, even so is my strength now, for war,
both to go out and to come in.' 1 That is to say, both in oppos-
ing vice and in the increasing of good works in the paths of
holiness. And we read in Deuteronomy: "Moses was an
hundred and twenty years old when he died: his eye was not
dim, nor his natural force abated.' 2 And Moses himself said in
blessing Asher: 'Thy shoes shall be iron and brass: and as thy
days, so shall thy strength be/ 3

And so, dearly beloved, do not take advantage of the con-
cessions made to you by laying down the weapons of fasting
and vigils as if your vices were dead; do not indulge in enticing
pleasures as if you were already safe, while you are still running
in the contest. For old men are used to fasting, and although
their frailty longs for food, yet the habitual inclination of their
nature is in harmony with fasting and temperance. Barzillai
the Gileadite was invited to a feast: 'Come/ said King David,
'and I will feed thee with me in Jerusalem. 3 But he pleaded the
dullness of age, and excused himself from the delights of the
royal banquet: 'Can I distinguish between sweet and bitter?
Can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink? Can I hear

1 Joshua xiv, lo-xi. 2 Deut. xxxiv, 7. 8 Ibid., xxxili, 25.

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any more the voice of singing men and singing women?* 1
From this we can see how peaceful and of what excellent morals
that old man was. For why should he not, if necessary, be con-
tent with poverty in familiar things who scorns the dishes of
the king's table to which he was invited ? Why should he take
pleasure in producing idle or laughter-provoking words whose
chaste ears disdain to listen to the songs of strangers ? How
could a man who found no pleasure even there where psalms
were sometimes sung find any peace where the playing and
dancing of actors resounds ?

I must not forget to tell you that there are some old men
who even after they have become monks are so busy with
ancient lamentation that they harm themselves and seem crazy
to their hearers. Sometimes they piece together the fragments
of past events; sometimes they talk of the decrees of dead
kings or their conquests, and they spend the whole day in the
vain recital of old wives' tales. So it happens that the tongue
which God gave them, instead of being employed in salutary
prayer, makes itself ridiculous by the repetition of idle and
superstitious stories; while they appease the hunger of their
tongues with noxious feasts of story-telling, they fail to
restrain their bellies under the proper control of temperance,
for wordiness is ever the enemy of fasting.

There is an old monk of ours in the monastery of Sitria,
named Mainard; when he was still a soldier and I was urging
him to become a monk he, being as yet talkative and snappish,
boldly gave me a quarrelsome answer: 'Look/ he said, *I can
scarcely exist even now, when the daily assiduity of my
serving-maids cherishes me and ministers to me in all things;
how, then, should I be able to take up the way of a religious
rule who as it is can scarcely stay on my feet even without the
burden of any discipline?' A short time after, however, he
became a monk, by whose persuasion I do not know; and old
and ill as he was, he embarked on his new life with such fervour
that the old and mature and wise men regarded him as a
miracle, while the deceitful and wanton young men of the

1 2 Sam. xix, 35.

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monastery held him in scorn. They with all their tearing at him
with evil speaking and gnawing at him with biting words
could not so turn him away from the austere life he had deter-
mined upon that he failed to recite the Psalter four times daily,
and likewise to fast from all food and drink four days in the
week, summer and winter alike. And he retained another of his
earlier customs: each month was so disposed that in the first
week he ate nothing at all except on the Lord's Day and on
Thursday. Unless I am mistaken, he has now been wearing the
habit of holy religion for twelve years, and has spent all that
time in the monastery.

There is also another of our brethren, Leo of Prezia, who is
enclosed within the confines of a cell; we have mentioned him
briefly in some of our other writings. He is so old that he has
seen the deaths of those who were born after him and is re-
garded as an old man by those who have grown old in his life-
time. Despite the sickness of so exhausted and trembling a
body, he never drinks wine except on two or at the most three
great feast-days in the year. He never eats before the ninth
hour except on the Lord's Day; on two days of the week (this
is when he is living less strictly) he will not eat more than one
dish, He arranges the order of his prayers in this way: every
day, both in summer and in winter, he recites the Psalter with
its canticles and litanies before the night office of the Church,
between the first light of dawn and the sixth hour he sings the
Psalter with nine lessons for the departed; finally, towards
evening he closes the day with a third recitation of the Psalter
and the Gloria.

Moreover, he has this gift, which I have never found in any
other man, however perfect; that when he is reciting the
psalms no other thought intrudes; so great is the purity of his
heart that he does not have to trouble to resist distraction; his
mind never thinks of anything which it not in harmony with
the psalms his lips are reciting. And it is very remarkable
that his eyes are never weighed down with the weariness
of spkitual sloth. I must add that although he cannot see
men's faces, because of the blindness of old age, yet he can

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see and read letters, and reads through the Psalter twice daily.

Another astonishing thing is that when he is in his cell,
where the light is dim, he can read every letter that is written;
when he comes outside where it is easier to see, he cannot
recognize their outlines. This he has often admitted to me after
I had carefully questioned him. He does not suffer from the
strivings of the flesh, nor does he need to labour against any
distraction of the mind, even for a moment. Crucified as he is
to this world, he scarcely perceives any human thing; all un-
leavened and wholly sincere, he lives, I declare, the life of an
angel.

See, dearly beloved, I have given you two examples of the
many at hand, one from the cenobitic and the other from the
solitary life. From them you may clearly learn that where the
fire of a fervent spirit has been kindled, the desire for good
works does not grow dim in our old age; but in the same way
that a lively spirit sends forth the serpent who is borne upon
his ribs, not his feet, to run, so the love of God urges our aged
limbs onwards through the desire for spiritual combat. For
we have not yet a continuing city, but we seek one to come, 1
and so we must not hope for rest in any period of our life here:
on the high seas of this world the just must struggle on where
the impious may take their rest. This difference is symbolized
by the raven and the dove which were sent forth from the ark;
the raven perched on drowned bodies, and did not return to
the safety of the ark; but the dove returned, for she found no
place where her foot could rest. Here indeed where wicked
men satisfy themselves with the pleasures of the flesh, holy
men can nowhere find a place of rest for their desire. This is
why he who is discovered to have sinned must, according to
the law, receive forty stripes. For the number forty mystically
contains that entire period of time during which the Church,
scattered throughout the four quarters of the world, lived
under the law of the Decalogue. We sinners receive forty
stripes if while we are in this life we are chastised by the rod
of penitence. Now every sinner, be he old or young, must be

1 Heb. xiil, 14.

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bruised in this world so that he may be found cleansed from
guilt in the day of judgement; for there no chastisement can
afflict those who throughout their life in the world, whatever
their age or rank, were stricken by the discipline of perfect
penitence.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

But now, dearly-beloved brethren, I speak to every one of
you; I entreat you by the name of Christ, in which every knee
shall bow. Remain steadfast in brotherly love; unite together
in the zeal of your mutual affection against the wiles of our
ancient enemy. Let the whole structure of your holy way of
life be raised on the foundations of charity; let the whole
edifice which you are building from the living stones of virtue
be cemented by the mortar of a genuine love. The voice of
God commanded that the ark which was to hold eight souls
during the deluge should be smeared with pitch within and
without, so that she should be outwardly soothed by brotherly
sweetness and inwardly united in the truth of mutual love.
Whoever loves inwardly, but is outwardly at variance with his
brethren because of the unsuitable harshness of his behaviour
has the inner lining of pitch but not the outer. He on the other
hand who to all outward appearances shows himself kindly
and feigns friendship but does not possess the reality of friend-
ship in his inmost heart is damnably full of holes inside, while
outwardly he is united by the pretence of the pitch he has
smeared. Neither of them shall be saved from shipwreck in the
deluge, since neither is protected by a double lining of pitch
as the Lord commanded.

But he who is outwardly kindly and also keeps his inward
love, who shows forth the fruit of kindliness as well as the
branches of the word, and who sends down deep roots
within, since he loves from the bottom of his heart, such a
man is smeared with pitch both within and without, because
he is joined to his neighbours by a double bond of charity.
Now it was commanded in the first place that the ark should be

ON THE PERFECTION OF MONKS

made of smooth wood, and then that it should be smeared with
pitch; we have already written above how you should smooth
and polish your wood with the axe of penance and discipline;
now in logical consequence we urge you to apply pitch to the
finished structure. Indeed, when the manners of men are rough
and harsh, it is useless to apply the bond of charity to them;
for they soon spring apart from each other when they do not
observe a balanced agreement of polite behaviour.

You must therefore be smoothed by the discipline of
spiritual labour and lined by the harmony of brotherly love.
This union cannot be one of perfect agreement unless the ark
is finished with a cubit; that is to say, unless one man is set
over the rest as Christ's vicar. Unity brings about agreement
among many men; it causes the wills of different men to be in
accord in the bonds of charity and the unanimity of a common
spirit.

Therefore, dearly beloved, if you desire to be at one with
each other in the love of Christ, be more intent in your obedi-
ence in humbleness of heart to him who is set above you in
Christ's place. Let there be no babbling Shem among you to
reveal the shameful nakedness of his father and to talk of the
abominableness of his father's sin. For in the midst of his
brethren he was not numbered among the first-fruits of the
Israelites, nor does he merit a place in the fullness of the
nations. He who, despising the shepherd, seeks a hireling, who
listens to the voices of strangers, who plays with the hammers
of discord in the furnace of hatred and who divided the king-
dom of Israel by sowing the seed of schism will have no place
there. c We have no part in David,' he says, 'neither have we
inheritance in the son of Jesse.' 1 As long as bees make honey
together they remain under a single leader. And cranes, too, as
long as they stay in line, and follow their leader never lose
their orderly course. As soon as Rome was built, it became
impossible for her to have two brothers as kings; and so the
first walls of the rising structure were dedicated by fratricide.
Jacob and Esau, when they were in the womb of Rebecca and

1 2 Sam. xx, i.

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had no clothing but their mother's belly, fought as if they
were already dressed in armour.

Therefore the abbot must embrace and cherish the brethren
as if they were his sons; in the same way, they must defer to
him as if he were their father. You know what Cicero said:
c Why should I treat you as an emperor when you do not treat
me as a senator ? ?1 It is not that the more spiritual disciples are
to be reproached with this; but we wish that the weaker
brethren should be deprived of the opportunity to complain.
And so he should love all the brethren, so that he may of
right be loved by them in return. In this way therefore the
shepherd and the sheep, the general and the soldiers, should
be joined together in the single-minded practice of virtue; so
that love, which is God, may rule them in undivided unity.
See, beloved fathers and lords, I halt my pen in its course here
for a purpose; for I know that what I have written is crude and
clumsy. Nevertheless, that which is despised because it lacks
the savour of salt may be commended for its brevity. And so
I beseech you who sometime eat pulse after you have partaken
of sea-delicacies that you will not scorn to glance at this scrap
of parchment after reading the Sacred Writings.
1 Cicero, De Orat. II, in poem.

! 3 6

THE FIFTY-EIGHTH TREATISE OF
ST. PETER DAMIAN

Concerning True Happiness and Wisdom

Peter the sinful monk sends greetings to the most prudent
Boniface, in the indissoluble bond of their true love.

I know very well, brother, that when this letter of mine
falls into the hands of your worldly acquaintances, it will be
scanned diligently to see whether it shines with eloquence;
they will look to see whether it has been set forth in logical
order, whether it gleams with the rich colours of rhetorical art,
whether the opinions it contains are elaborated by arguments
of dialectical subtlety; they will ask whether I use categorical
or hypothetical syllogisms to construct my propositions by
means of irrefutable adductions.

CHAPTER ONE

But those who live by the spirit of God despise these
ornamental frivolities as things utterly vain and worthless, and,
as the Apostle says, count them but as dung. 1 And Paul bears
witness that he himself did not speak to his disciples with
wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of
no effect. 2 What splendid and fruitful and honourable eloquence
is that which, while it puffs up its proud author with the wind
of vainglory, makes of no effect the cross of Christ, which is
the world's salvation!

And so, dearly beloved, do not look to find in my letters

the enticing salt savour of mordant wit or the charm of smooth

sophistication; be content with that sheeplike simplicity which

1 Phil, iii, 8. a i Cor. i, 17.

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leads to God; and shun the cunning of the serpent, which
instils a deadly poison. The Scriptures say: 'Now the serpent
was more subtle than any beast of the field.' 1 And the Lord,
who set an irreconcilable enmity between the seed of the
woman and that of the serpent, called Himself a shepherd of
sheep, not of serpents; He did not say c My serpents' but 'My
sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and I give unto them
eternal life.' 2 And yet the wise men of this world hold in scorn
the simplicity of the servants of God. This is why Moses says:
'The Egyptians might not eat bread with the Hebrews; for
that is an abomination unto the Egyptians.' 3 He gives the
reason for this elsewhere, when he says 'Every shepherd is an
abomination unto the Egyptians.' 4 And Truth Himself has said
that the children of this world are wiser in their generation
than the children of light. 5 That is why they love the cunning
of the serpent and despise the purity and simplicity of the sheep.
Yet the Lord said to Peter: c lf you love Me, feed My sheep,
feed My lambs.' 6 Did He say Teed my foxlings, feed my
dragons' ?

Concerning all this I would say to you, dearly beloved, that
you should beware of the dreadful subtlety of the serpent.
Your holy wisdom should tread the middle way between folly
and cunning. This is what James meant when he dismissed the
wisdom of the serpent, saying: 'This wisdom descendeth not
from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish.* 7 A little later he
tells us of that kind of wisdom which we should possess: 'The
wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle
and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without
partiality and without hypocrisy.' 8 Paul also tells us not to
think more highly than we ought, but to think soberly. 9 Isaias
says of unbridled wisdom: 'The wisdom of their wise men shall
perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be
hid. Woe unto them that seek deep to hide their counsel from
the Lord; whose works are in the dark and they say: Who

1 Gen. iii, i. 2 John x, 27-28. 3 Gen. xliii, 32.

4 Gen. xlvi, 34. 5 Luke xvi, 8. 6 John xxi, 15-18.

7 Jas. Hi, 15. 8 Ibid., 17. 9 Rom. xii, 3.

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seeth us, and who knoweth us ?* The prophet mocks at such
wisdom: 'Where Is the scribe? Where is the lawyer? Where is
the teacher of the children ? You shall not see an unwise people,
a people of deep speech, so that you cannot understand the
discourse of their tongue, in which there is no wisdom/ 1

CHAPTER Two

The Apostle distinguishes clearly the great difference be-
tween worldly prudence and spiritual wisdom in another place,
when he says: Tor after that in the wisdom of God the world
by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness
of preaching to save them that believe/ 2 And again: 'The
carnal mind is the enemy of God; for it is not subject to the
law of God, neither indeed can be/ 3 This is why as we are
told in the book of Genesis, the five kings who did not wish
to submit to Chedorlaomor were overcome by four kings.
This took place in the vale of Siddim, which is now the salt
sea. The four kings represent those four virtues which Holy
Scripture calls the principal virtues; the five kings symbolize
the senses of the body, and thereby outward knowledge. And
just as the former, those virtues which I have mentioned, spring
from their mother-source, the fountain-head of reason, so the
latter remain in the valley of salt which is the vanity of earthly
wisdom, where they are overthrown by their enemies; for it is
fitting that in our souls the wisdom of the spirit should have
the victory and the cunning of fleshly knowledge should perish.
We read of David that 'he gat himself a name when he returned
from smiting of the Syrians in the valley of salt, twelve
thousand being slain/ 4 And Christ, our true David, mighty in
strength and splendid to behold, scattered twelve thousand
men in the valley of salt, for through His apostles He triumphed
over the salt, nay, the false witness of this world. He had twelve
warriors for his spiritual battle, and through each of them
must have slain a thousand men when he converted the fool-

1 Isa. xxxiii, 18-19. 2 * Cor. i s 21.

8 Rom. viii, 7. 4 i Sam. vili, 13.

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ishly wise from the folly of their vain knowledge. One of these
warriors said to the Corinthians: 'Though we walk in the flesh
we do not war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our
warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God for the pulling
down of strongholds, casting down imaginations and every
high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God,
and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of
Christ.' 1

CHAPTER THREE

Indeed, just as heavenly wisdom makes spiritually-minded
and lawful sons of the Church, so earthly prudence makes them
carnal-minded and bastards. Of these, Baruch says: 'And the
sons of Agar, who sought out diligently that wisdom which is
of this world, the merchants of Merrha and Theman, the
spinners of tales and seekers of knowledge, knew not the way
of wisdom, nor did they remember her paths.' 2 Those who
desire to pursue worldly knowledge and who despise the wis-
dom of the spkit are sons of Agar, not of Sarah; and, being
bastards, are to be judged by the law of Ishmael, not that of
Israel. And, since the name Agar means 'stranger', they are not
the children of wisdom, but strangers and pilgrims, but not of
the number of those to whom the Apostle says: c Now therefore
ye are no more strangers and pilgrims, but fellow-citizens with
the saints, and of the household of God.' 3 Do you too, dearly
beloved (if I may once more use the words of Baruch), learn
where wisdom dwells. For she is to be found in her essence
only in God, and of him you must certainly seek her. But
because the place you hold in the world is not a lowly one,
and because you cannot abandon it, you will find it useful, in
avoiding the cadences of pagan rhetoric in conversation, and
in shunning at all times the sophistication of literary elegance,
to observe a certain discretion. Be almost slothful in worldly
matters; but stretch all the sinews of your mind in the discipline
of the spirit. Be heedless of the former, but eager in the latter.
Because you cannot of yourself hope entirely to avoid the

1 2 Cor. x, 3-5. 2 Baruch iii, 22-24. 3 Eph. ii, 19.

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CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM

cunning of the serpent in the transaction of worldly affairs, let
this be enough for you: that the wisdom of the spirit may
devour your earthly prudence, and transform it into the secret
substance of her body. The Scriptures tell us, concerning
Pharaoh's magicians: They cast down every man his rod, and
they became serpents, but Aaron's rod swallowed up their
rods.' 1 Now, the rod of Aaron swallowed up the rods of the
sorcerers because the wisdom of Christ, which it signified, has
made void all the wisdom of the world, and has united in the
bowels of His body, the Church, the wise men of this world.

Besides, it is absurd and disgraceful that we should show the
same care and precision in human affairs that we devote to the
things of God and of the spirit. That is why the Lord said to
Moses: 'Take unto thee sweet spices, stacte and onycha and
sweet-smelling galbanum and pure frankincense, and thou
shalt make it a perfume, a confection after the art of the
apothecary, tempered together, pure and holy.' 2

We make a perfume of sweet spices when we diffuse the
odour of a multiplicity of virtues around the altar of good
works. And it is tempered together and pure, because the more
we add to virtue, the more purely does the incense of good
works rise up. And to these words of the Lord were added
others: 'And thou shalt beat it very small, and put of it before
the testimony in the tabernacle of the congregation.' 3 We beat
all these spices very small when we pound our good works in
the pestle of our hearts by secret examination of our con-
sciences and carefully consider whether they are truly good.
To reduce the spices to dust is to grind our virtues by means
of reflection and to subject them to the refinement of inner
inquiry.

CHAPTER FOUR

Remember what was said of this dust: 'Thou shalt put of it
before the testimony in the tabernacle of the congregation';
for our good works are truly pleasing in the sight of the
Eternal Judge when our mind mills them by careful considera-

1 Exod. vii, 12. a Exod. xxx, 34-35. 3 Ibid., 36.

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tion, and as it were reduces the spices to dust. Let not the good
which we do contain anything harsh or coarse, lest, the severe
hand of examination having failed to crush it, it should not
send forth its most delicate fragrance. Such diligence, such
pressing attention, is not, of course, to be shown to worldly
things; its purpose is this that we may be found pleasing in
the sight of the Creator; not that we may appear glorious in
this world, but that we may be wise in God's sight in our
judgement. That is why the Lord continued: c You shall not
make for yourselves according to the composition thereof; it
shall be unto you holy for the Lord*; 1 and afterwards: 'Whoso-
ever shall make like unto that, to smell thereto, shall even be
cut off from his people/ 2 Whoever, then, devotes to the study
of pagan letters, or to any earthly thing, that care which is
chiefly due to that punctilious inner examination of ourselves
whereby we may please God, deserves to perish, for he is
devoting that incense which should be offered to God alone
to transitory and vain things. And that which we say concern-
ing knowledge must be admitted to apply to all the pleasures
of this life. For it is fitting that worldly prudence should wither
up in us straightway, and that the wisdom of the spirit alone
should blossom again in our souls; as the Apostle tells us
when he says: Tf ye then be risen with Christ, seek the things
which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of
God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the
earth/ 3 It would be none the less fitting that this present
existence should have no life in our hearts; that, being utterly
dead to us, it should by no means delight us who are dead, as
the same Apostle says: Therefore we are buried with him by
baptism into death; that like as Christ was raised up from the
dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk
in newness of life.' 4 Yet since these things are impossible
especially for those who live in the world, who cannot alto-
gether attain the summit of this other perfection, they must be
reminded that they should endeavour to give at all events only

1 Exod. xxx, 37. 2 !&<!., ?8>

3 CoL iii, i~2. 4 Rom. vi, 4.

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CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM

a secondary place to those things which they cannot completely
despise.

CHAPTER FIVE

And because this present existence is as delightful to many
men of the world as a coy wife, we must repeat at greater
length that even if they cannot, because of the weakness of the
spirit, hate it as they should, they must not begin to love it
excessively; so that even if they have not as yet sufficient
strength to give it a writ of separation they may be ashamed,
nevertheless, to show it preference in comparison with their
love of everlasting life. That is why the law declares: "If a man
have two wives, one beloved and another hated, and they have
borne him children, both the beloved and the hated, and if the
first-born son be hers that was hated, then it shall be, when he
maketh his sons to inherit that which is indeed the first-born,
by giving him a double portion of all that he hath; for he is the
beginning of his strength; the right of the first-born is his/ 1
Now, these two wives of man are virtue and pleasure, at
variance with each other, feeling jealousy, malice and hatred.
And pleasure belongs to this life, but virtue to everlasting
glory. The former is beloved because she allures her husband
(the feeble soul) with seductive delights; the other is described
as hated because she causes men to travel a narrow and painful
road and always sets before them hard and bitter things. But
the son of the hated wife is our first-born, for our Creator in
the beginning gave virtue to us, but pleasure, and all the allure-
ments of the flesh, proceed from the defects of our fallen nature.
But, since there is not time to set forth word by word all the
essence of the nature of this precept, let it suffice, for brevity's
sake, to say that if we cannot drive out the beloved wife, who
is certainly harmful to us, from sharing our bridal couch, let
us at any rate strive to exalt the hated wife, who is upright and
chaste, to the position of the first-born; so that even if it is
difficult for us, in however small a degree, not to be aware of
the sweetness of this life, the glory of mastery shall be granted

1 Deut. xxi, 15-17.

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CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM

to virtue, the place of servitude to pleasure. The son of virtue
shall rule in the dignity of the first-born; the son of pleasure
shall remain a servant, always under the restraint of discipline.
Do you by any chance wish to know who are the sons of the
beloved wife ? Paul will give you the answer: 'Now the works
of the flesh are manifest, which are these: adultery, fornication,
uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, vari-
ance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings,
murders, drunkenness, revellings and suchlike, of the which I
tell you before, as I have also told you in times past, that they
which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God.' 1
And would you like to hear now who are the offspring of the
hated wife? Listen to what he says next: 'But the fruit of the
spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuflering, gentleness, goodness,
faith, meekness, temperance.* 2 The first-born son should there-
fore receive his double portion in this way: the fruit of the
spirit should rule both body and soul, and should have rights
over both the inner and the outer man.

CHAPTER Six

If, then, you find it hard to be content with one wife, and
have not the strength to give to the beloved wife whom you
should hate a writ of separation, at least be sure that the hated
wife, whom you should embrace with all your might, is given
the highest place in the household of your heart. But she who
is now wrongly beloved shall have the lowest place until such
time as she shall gradually, by reason of her hideousness, be-
come an object of aversion, and aversion be irrevocably turned
into hatred. Let the son of the hated wife be your first-born,
and let the multitude of your other children do him reverence.
That is why we read that Joshua called down a curse upon
Jericho after she had fallen, saying: 'Cursed be the man before
the Lord, that riseth up and buildeth this city Jericho; he shall
lay the foundation thereof in his firstborn, and in his youngest
son shall he set up the gates of it/ 3 For by Jericho which in
1 Gal v, 19-21. 8 Ibid., 22. 3 Joshua vi, 26.

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CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM

our language means 'moon 5 , is signified our present life; so
that he who builds the city of Jericho on his firstborn is he
who loves the good things of this life above all else. And
because Truth Himself has commanded, in the gospel: 'Seek
ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all
these things shall be added unto you', 1 anyone who is proved
to have erred from this commandment is deservedly con-
demned by a curse, as the prophet bears witness when he says:
They are cursed who do err from thy commandments.' 2 On
the other hand, he may be said to set up the gates of Jericho
in his youngest son who so uses this world's goods that he
does not possess them with desire but yearns with all his heart
for the reward of heavenly glory. He who sets earthly things
below heavenly ones in his love cares not a straw for perish-
able things. In doing this, he makes the son of the hated wife
the first-born, according to the commandment of the law, and
as Joshua says, raises the gates of Jericho on the youngest of
his children. Cain, on the other hand, built a city upon his
first-born son Enoch because he did not hope for an inheritance
to come; and because he destined himself over-hastily for the
Jericho of this world, he incurred the sentence of everlasting
damnation. Hence it is written: 'An inheritance may be gotten
hastily at the beginning; but the end thereof shall not be
blessed.' 3

And so, beloved, if you cannot yet be content with the life
of the spirit alone as your only bride, but are held bound by
the evil caresses and allurements of life in the world, at least
let the love of everlasting life hold first place in the household
of your heart, as befits the first-born; and let concern for earthly
things be in a place of subjection, as an inferior to be kept in
check. In the Song of Songs it is said: 'His left hand is under
my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.' 4 Now the left
hand is said to be under the head when this life is scorned and
despised by the mind, which is the head and source of our
thoughts. He is held in the embrace of the right hand who at

1 Matt, vi, 33. 2 Ps. odx, 21.

8 Prov. xx, 21. 4 Song of Sol. ii, 6.

K 145

CONCERNING TRUE HAPPINESS AND WISDOM

all times takes pleasure in longing for eternal life alone. And
because Solomon also says: 'Give a portion to seven and also
to eight', 1 hasten forward in this life, which is signified by the
number seven, in suchwise that you may now strive with all
your powers to abide in the love of life everlasting, which
through the number eight signifies the glory of the resurrec-
tion. Show only a careless and fleeting concern for this world;
fix your unwavering and enduring purpose of unfailing love
on the world to come, which is everlasting. Moreover, I would
like to remind you that what I have said of this mortal life
applies also to the wisdom of the world, so that in your soul
mortal life and earthly wisdom may yield, trodden down, as it
were by the heel of the mind. But may the love of eternal life
and zeal for spiritual wisdom surpass all other things, set on
the highest pinnacle of your heart, so that when you spurn this
life and its wisdom, you may deserve by happy exchange to be
filled with the divine Spirit, who will urge you on to eternal
glory.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

1 Eccles. xl, 2.

146

Sermon for the feast of Epiphany

'When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Juda, in the days of
Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the East to
Jerusalem, saying, Where is He that is born King of the Jews ?
for we have seen His star in the east, and are come with gifts
to worship him.' 1 Praise the Lord, all ye nations: praise Him,
all ye people. 2 For before the Almighty Word came down from
His heavenly throne, and when the night was in the midst of
her course, the people of the Gentiles walked in darkness 3
because they loved darkness rather than light, 4 and they fol-
lowed the paths of error and stood in the way of sinners, 5 each
going his own way, one to his farm, another to his merchandise; 6
and their foolish hearts were darkened; 7 they were too much
concerned with the work of their hands. All their fathers of
old were under the cloud, 8 so that they saw with the eyes of
night, and could not look upon the glory of Moses' counten-
ance; there was a veil over their hearts, and dark waters and
thick clouds in the skies; 9 for the precious sons of Zion were
turned into earthen pitchers, the work of the potter's hand,
the stones of the sanctuary were scattered at the top of every
street, their silver was turned into dross, and their innkeepers
mixed water with their wine; the gold became dim, and the
most fine gold was changed; 10 there was none of them that did
good; no, not one. 11 Then there was darkness over the whole

1 Matt, ii, i. 2 Ps. cxvil, i. 8 Isa. ix, 2.

4 John iii, 19. 5 Ps. i, i. 6 Matt, xxii, 5.

7 Rom. i, 21. s i Cor. x, i. 9 Ps. xviii, n.

10 Lam. iv, i. u Ps. xiv, 3.

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SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

earth, for Jew and Gentile alike made their beds in the shadows,
dwelling in darkness and in the shadow of death. 1 But the
night was far spent, and the day was at hand; a light shone in
our prison-house, a light arose in the darkness unto the up-
right, and the day spring from on high visited us; that morning
star which knows no setting rose when the true Light, which
lights every man that comes into the world, shone in the dark-
ness, and the darkness comprehended it not. 2

Therefore the Jews and the Gentiles were in darkness until
the time of fulfilment. But when the fullness of time was come
the Lord sent the lamb to the ruler of the land from the rock
in the wilderness to the mount of the daughter of Zion, 3 and
the stone which the builders rejected became the headstone of
the corner. And because He came to gather together the
scattered sheep (although He was sent in the first place only to
the lost sheep of the house of Israel yet He had other sheep
that were not of that fold, and it was necessary for Him to
bring them also, so that there might be one fold and one
shepherd), 4 the light rose on all who dwelt in the land of the
shadow of death, Jew and Gentile alike. That is why, at the
Lord's birth, the brightness of God shone round about the
shepherds, because the angel brought them good tidings of
great joy; and on this day which we celebrate the brightness of
the star bore witness to the presence of the newly-born Saviour.
The voice of the angels spoke to the Jews, as to reasonable
men; the star of heaven was the instrument of speech to the
Gentiles, since they were like the beasts of wood and field.
And so a light heralded the Light, a created thing bore witness
to its Creator, the thing made spoke of its Maker, and a new
star declared the true Sun. Praise, therefore, the Lord, all ye
nations: praise him, all ye people. Rejoice, ye Gentiles, with
his people. 5 Let the Gentiles be glad and the Jews exult; for
the Sun has shone forth from the star, and the Maker of the
Virgin has been formed in the Virgin his creature. The man
who was formed in her was also the Highest Himself who

1 Luke i, 79. 2 John i, 5. 8 Isa. xvi, i.

4 John x, 1 6. fi Rom. xv a 10.

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SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

established her. 1 The Sun has risen from a star, health from
sickness, life from death, light from darkness, sweetness from
bitterness, a rose from a thorn, a father from his daughter, a
lord from his handmaiden, and from a little stream has come
a well of water springing up into everlasting life. 2 So the Sun
has risen from a star and was also heralded by a star.

There was a star in the sky, a star on earth and the Sun in
the manger. The star in the sky was that bright heavenly body;
the star on earth, the Virgin Mary; the Sun in the manger,
Christ our Lord. Of the star in the sky we read in the Gospel:
*We have seen His star in the east, and are come to worship
Him/ 3 Of the star on earth, Balaam prophesied: 'There shall
come a Star out of Jacob that shall smite all the nations/ 4
According to the Book of Wisdom, the wicked shall say of the
Sun in the manger: 'We have strayed from the path of truth,
and the sun of justice has not shone upon us/ 5 Of Him the
Apostle says: 'Let not the sun go down upon your anger/ 6
Is it not He who set the tabernacle of His flesh in the sun
when He was as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber? 7

A star, brethren, has four main characteristics: it has the
nature of fire, it is bright and clear, it sends forth a ray and it
shines in the night. We can find all these qualities in our star,
the Virgin Mary. She is that burning bush in which the Lord
appeared to Moses, which burned with fire and yet was not
consumed; for though she was with child she was not con-
sumed by the flames of desire. She is in herself bright and
splendid, so that it was said of her in the Song of Songs: 'Who
is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon,
clear as the sun?' 8 And she has sent forth from herself a ray
which pierces to the secret places of the heart and searches the
heart and the reins; 9 this is the living Word of God, quick and
powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing
even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit. The meaning
of her name is very fitting, for Mary means 'star of the sea 5 .

1 Ps. Ixxxvii, 5. 2 John iv, 14. 8 Matt, ii, 2.

4 Num. xxiv, 17. 5 Wisd. of Sol. v, 6. 8 Eph. iv, 26.

7 Ps. xk, 4-5. 8 Song of Sol. vi, 10. 9 Jer. xvii, 10.

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SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

The sea is this world, of which it was written: This great and
wide sea, wherein are innumerable creeping things/ 1 And she
is rightly named 'star of the sea', for she shines on the world
like an incomparable star, and her brightness makes the world
light, and she has sent forth from herself that ray 'which
lighteth every man that cometh into the world'. And just as
the ray issues from the star without destroying the star's in-
tegrity, so the Son came forth from the Virgin while her vir-
ginity remained inviolate, as Ezekiel prophesied: 'This gate
shall be shut, and no man shall enter in by it, but the Lord
alone shall enter in by it.' 2 A star shines in the night, and the
Virgin shines in the night of this world with an incomparable
light, so that it was said of her: 'Thou alone hast destroyed all
heresies throughout the whole world.' 3 Such is our star,
brethren, such is the Virgin Mary, the star of the sea, and
because she has left us an example, that we should follow
her steps, of such kind should our souls be.

Let us then, brethren, have the nature of fire, so that we
may have in us that fire which the Lord came to send on the
earth; 4 may that fire which blazed in the bones of Jeremiah be
kindled in the melting-furnace of our hearts, where the Lord
sits purifying and cleansing the sons of Levi. 5 Let us be clear
and shining that the day may break upon us, and the shadows
flee away; 6 so that putting off the old man with his deeds we
may put on the new man which is created after God; 7 for we
were sometimes darkness, but now are we light in the Lord. 8
Then let us put on the armour of light, and walk honestly, as
in the day. 9 Let us send forth from ourselves the ray of good
works, for it is written: c Let your loins be girded up and lan-
terns burning in your hands.* 10 To carry burning lanterns in our
hands is to shine upon our neighbours by the example of our
righteous deeds and to draw back the curtain; and let him that
lieareth say, Come. 11 Let your light so shine before men that

1 Ps. civ, 25. 2 Ezek. xliv, 2.

3 Tract of the Mass, 'Salve, sancta parens' of the Common of the B.V.M,

4 Luke xii, 49. 5 Mai. iii, 3. 6 Song of Sol. ii, 17.
7 Col. iii, 9-10. 8 Eph. v, 8. d Rom. xtti, 12-13.

10 Luke xii, 35. u Rev. xxii, 17.

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they may see your good works and glorify your Father which
is in heaven, 1 and many shall run after the odour of your
ointments. 2

A star shines in the night: let us, brethren, shine in this
world of night, for the Scriptures say: c among them you shine
as lights set in the heavens.' 3 Let us shine with the brightness
of wisdom among the shadows of heresy, for it is written:
'Take us the little foxes, that spoil the Lord's vine/ 4 That is
why the Lord says: 'Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as
doves.' 5 And so, brethren, if we follow in the footsteps of the
Virgin, our star, we will be enabled to attain to the true
Sun.

The sun has five main characteristics. It is unchangeable of
its very nature, whereas the moon changes each month. It is
unflawed by any spot, whereas the moon is always spotted.
The sun possesses a fullness of light, and the other heavenly
bodies take their light from it. Although it is unchangeable,
the sun sometimes suffers eclipse; and it shines always by day.
Let us look carefully for these characteristics in our true Sun.
The sun is of its very nature unchangeable, and Christ Himself
remains unchangeable by the power of His divine nature. He
Himself says: *I am the Lord: I change not'; 6 in Him there is
no change nor shadow of alteration. The sun is without flaw,
as He is who alone came into the world without stain, for He
has done no violence, neither was any deceit in His mouth. 7
The sun possesses a fullness of light, and in Him to whom
God did not give the Spirit by measure all the fullness of the
Godhead dwells bodily; 8 and of His fullness we have all re-
ceived, and grace for grace, 9 and it is like the precious ointment
which ran from Aaron's head to his beard and from there to
the hem of his garments. The sun sometimes suffers eclipse;
and Christ Himself suffered in His passion the eclipse of death
when the Shepherd departed, laying down His life for His
sheep, and He bowed His head and gave up the ghost. The

1 Matt, v, 16. 2 Song of Sol. i, 3. 3 Phil, ii, 15.

4 Song of Sol. ii, 15. 5 Matt, x, 16. 8 Mai. Hi, 6.

7 Isa. M, 9. 8 Col. ii, 9. 9 John i, 16.

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SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

sun shines always by day, and the Lord after His resurrection
brought to naught the darkness of human mortality; being
raised from the dead He dieth no more; death hath no more
dominion over Him. 1 He dwells in the light which no man can
approach unto 2 and in Him is no darkness at all. 3 John the
solitary eagle beheld His unreflected light with the naked eye,
when he soared so high that the whole world would not have
been able to contain him if he had thundered a little higher:
c ln the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.' 4

The enlightened wise men who dwell in the land of the sun's
rising came to the Sun; the star which takes its light from the
sun led them to adore the Sun. Let us take good heed of what
they did. They came from the east to Jerusalem, and when they
had come they asked: 'Where is He that is born King of the
Jews ?' They came to the place where He was and fell down;
falling down they worshipped Him; worshipping Him, they
offered Him gifts. They journeyed with unwearying toil; they
inquired with careful anxiety; they fell down in proper humi-
lity; they worshipped Him in piety of spirit; and they offered
Him gifts in the pure devotion of faith. 'And they presented
unto Him gold and frankincense and myrrh/ 5 See, the first-
fruits of the Gentiles were the first to offer a pure and un-
tainted belief. To God they offered incense, to the mortal man
myrrh, and gold to the king. The incense showed their belief
in His divinity, the myrrh their belief in His mortal humanity
and the gold their belief in His royal majesty. For He was both
God and man, Emmanuel, which means c God with us'; He
was made both rich and poor; and He was of kingly race, as is
written in His genealogy: 'The book of the generation of
Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham.' 6

Or we may say that all three gifts were offered to the human
Christ: the gold to the king, the incense to the priest and the
niyrrh to the mortal man. For He was of priestly as well as
royal descent. He was a king, and on His vesture and on His

1 Rom. vi, 9. 2 i Tim. vi, 16. 8 i John i, 5.

4 John i, i. 5 Matt, ii, n. 6 Matt, i, i.

IJ2

SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

thigh was written < King of kings and Lord of lords 5 . 1 And He
was a priest after the order of Melchizedek the king of Salem,
who was the priest of the most high God; for neither by the
blood of goats and calves, but by His own blood He entered
in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption
for us. 2 For we are now returned unto the shepherd and bishop
of our souls. 3 He was a mortal man too, for surely He hath
borne our griefs and carried our sorrows in His body on the
Cross. The Virgin herself, the star of the sea, offered these
same gifts in her own person to the Sun who was born of her.
She offered the gold of royal majesty, for she herself was of
kingly race: 'And Jacob begat Joseph the husband of Mary, of
whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ/ 4 She offered
frankincense and myrrh too, and so we read of her in the Song
of Songs: 'Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like
pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with
all the powders of the merchant ?' 5 Myrrh guards the bodies of
the dead from worms and preserves them from corruption;
this is why Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes
to embalm the body of Jesus. Myrrh symbolizes the purity of
the flesh and frankincense the devotion of the spirit. We do
well to perceive these qualities in our virgin star, for purity of
body and devotion of spirit alike endured for ever in the Virgin
Mary. And it is right that c all the powders of the merchant'
should be added; for she was so filled with the gifts of the
Holy Spirit that she deserved to hear the greeting: 'Hail, thou
that art full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou
among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.' 6 These,
brethren, are the gifts which were offered by the wise men and
by the Virgin Mary. And since they have given us an example,
let us do likewise.

The kings came; let us come too, for it is written: 'Come to
me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest'; 7 and elsewhere: 'Come to me, all ye who desire me.' 8

1 Rev. xix, 1 6. 2 Heb. ix, 12. 8 i Pet. ii, 25.

4 Matt, i, 1 6. 5 Song of Sol. iii, 6. 6 Luke i, 28, 42.

7 Matt, xi, 28. 8 Eccles. xxiv, 26.

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The wise men sought Him; let us seek Him also, for it is
written: 'Seek ye the Lord while he may be found.' 1 They fell
down; let us do likewise, for the Psalmist says: 'O come; let us
worship and bow down.' 2 They adored Him; let us too adore
Him, for the Scriptures say: 'Worship the Lord in the beauty
of holiness/ 3 They offered gifts to Him; we must do the same,
for it is written: 'I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of
God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy,
acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.' 4 Let
us offer those three gifts which the wise men presented, but
under a different form: the myrrh of mortification, so that
mortifying our members which are on earth we may hold our
bodies and their desires as of no account, crucifying the flesh
with its affections and lusts, 5 and in all these things let our
service be reasonable; the incense of devout prayer, in accord-
ance with the words of the Apostle: C I will pray with the spirit,
and I will pray with the understanding also; I will sing with
the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also/ 6 so that
'my prayer may be set before the Lord as incense'; 7 gold too,
the splendour of wisdom (for gold symbolizes wisdom,
according to the text: 'There is desirable treasure in the mouth
of a wise man'), 8 that we may be prepared to give an account
of the faith and hope that Is in us to any inquirer, and may
shine with the splendour of wisdom, and fight without fear
against the darkness of heresy; that we may be able to say:
'The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of
gold and silver.' 9 1 would that you were not more likely to say
'The law of Justinian's mouth is better unto me than thousands
of gold and silver.' 'The proud have digged pits for me, which
are not after thy law'; 10 'they have forsaken the Lord, the foun-
ain of living waters' 11 so that Wisdom may rightly complain:
'They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters.' 12 For
those who should meditate upon the law of the Lord night and

1 Isa. lv, 6. s Ps. xcv, 6. 8 Ps. xxix, 2.

4 Rom. xii, i. B Gal. v, 24, 6 i Cor. xiv, 15.

7 Ps. cxli, 2. 8 Prov. xxi, 20 (misreading). 9 Ps. cxix, 72.

10 Ibid., 85. J1 Jer. xvii, 13. 12 Jer. ii, 13.

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day have turned from the truth to listen to fables. Let the
sentries set upon the walls of the Church be watchful, lest
Samson's foxes should burn our standing corn; and let the
tower of David whereon there hang a thousand bucklers be
set against Damascus, Tor the Lord's name is a mighty tower;
the righteous runneth into it and is safe.' 1 These are the Holy
Writings in which the Lord's name is invoked; and bishops
and teachers are established in this fortress, who must keep its
boundaries. Of them it is written: 'Remove not the ancient
landmarks which thy fathers have set.' For Moses set bounds
around Mount Sinai, which might not be passed. Would that
no man would pass these bounds who was not worthy of the
stone tablets of the Law. Upon this fortress of Holy Scripture
there hang a thousand bucklers. The perfection of authority,
that is, against the power of the heretics. For no other founda-
tion can man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ, 2 that
is, the mystery of Christ.

The mystery of Christ is unchangeable and immovable, for
there is manifold witness to it. The witness of men and women,
of those in the prime of life and of the aged, of things earthly
and heavenly, of Gentile and Jew, of ancient times and of His
own day; the witness of light and of darkness, of the Law and
the Prophets, of kings and of the multitude, of living and
dead, of brute beasts, of the sun and of the elements. There
was the witness of men, for there were shepherds in that
country, and coming they made known the saying which was
told them concerning this child; 3 the witness of angels, for
c the angel of the Lord came upon them . . . and said to them
'Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy ... for unto you
is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ
the Lord.' 4 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude
of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, Glory to God
in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will.' 5 There
was the witness of women, for Anna the prophetess, PhanueTs
daughter, gave thanks to the Lord and spoke of Him to all that

1 Prov. xviii, 10. 2 i Cor. Hi, n. 3 Luke ii, 8, 17.

4 Ibid., 9-1 1. 6 Ibid., 13, 14.

SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

looked for redemption in Jerusalem. 1 There was the witness
of men in their prime, for on one day three thousand were
converted and on another five thousand; and of old men, for
Simeon the ancient of days, whose hair was like white wool,
who had received an answer from the Holy Spirit that he
should not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ,
taking Him in his arms said: 'Lord, now lettest thou thy
servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes
have seen thy salvation/ 2 There was, too, the witness of
children, for those Innocents confessed the Lord not with
their tongues but by their deaths. Earthly things bore witness,
for there was peace on earth to men of good will; so much
peace that the whole world could be enrolled by one man,
Caesar Augustus. Of his peace, Isaiah said: 'They shall beat
their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-
hooks.' 3 The heavens bore witness too, and sent a new star,
as the Gospel says: 'And lo, the star, which they saw in the
east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the
young child was.' 4 The Gentiles bore witness, for the wise
men, coming to Jerusalem, said: 'Where is He that is born
King of the Jews ?' 5 The Jews bore witness, for Herod, gather-
ing together the chief priests and scribes of the people, de-
manded of them where the Christ should be born, and they
said: In Bethlehem of Judaea/ 6 The ancients bore witness, for
He used similitudes by the ministry of the prophets. 7 He is the
Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. 8 The men of
His own time bore witness, so that He said to His disciples:
'Ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all
Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the
earth.' 9 Light bore witness, for the glory of the Lord shone
round about the shepherds and the brightness of the star shone
upon the wise men. Darkness bore witness, for at His death
darkness covered the face of the earth. The Law bore witness,
for Moses said in the Law: 'The Lord thy God will raise up

1 Luke ii, 36-38. 2 Ibid., 26-30. 8 Isa, ii, 4.

4 Matt ii, 9. 5 Ibid., 2. 6 Ibid., ii, 4-5.

7 Hos. xii, 10. 8 Rev. xiii, 8. 9 Acts i 8.

I 5 6

SERMON FOR THE FEAST OF EPIPHANY

unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee; unto him shall ye
hearken/ 1 and again: 'Thy life shall hang on a tree; and thou
shalt see and shalt not understand.' The prophets bore witness.
Isaiah said: 'And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem
of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his root, and the spirit
of the Lord shall rest upon him.' 2 And again: 'Behold a virgin
shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Im-
manuel.' 3 And Baruch says: 'After this he revealed himself on
earth, and spoke with mortal men.' 4 Ezekiel was called 'son'
in bearing witness. Daniel says: 'When the holy of holies is
come, your anointing shall cease.' Hosea took to himself a
wife of whoredoms to bear witness to Him. 6 Habbakuk said:
'He had horns coming out of his hands.' 6 Jonah in the whale's
belly bore witness to His testimony. But why enumerate each
one? There was no prophet who did not bear witness to Him.
Kings too bore witness; so King David said: 'Our land shall
yield her increase'; 7 and again: 'Let the earth open, and let
them bring forth salvation.' 8 And Solomon says: 'Let him kiss
me with the kisses of his mouth, for thy breasts are better than
wine, because of the savour of thy good ointments' and 'While
the king sitteth at his table my spikenard sendeth forth the
smell thereof.' 9 The multitudes bore witness, for the Gospel
tells us that they said: 'We have seen strange things today,' 10
and 'If this man were not God, he could do nothing.' 11 And
because of this they wanted to take Him by force and make
Him king. Living men bore witness, for the two who were
travelling to Emmaus came and told all that had befallen them.
Dead men bore witness, for 'many bodies of the saints which
slept arose and appeared to many.' 12 The brute beasts bore wit-
ness: 'The ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib.' 13
The sun bore witness when it was darkened. The earth and the
elements bore witness in the great earthquake. 14 The air bore

I Dent, xviii, 15. 2 Isa. xi, 1-2. 3 Ibid., vli, 14.
4 Baruch Hi, 38. 5 Hos. i, 2. ft Hab. in, 4.

7 Ps. Ixxxv, 12. 8 This is, of course, not David, but Isa. Ixv, 8.

9 Song of Sol. i, 2 and 12. 10 Luke v. 26.

II John k, 33. 12 Matt, xxvii, 52-53. ** Isa. i, 3.
14 Matt. xxvH, 51.

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witness when a cloud received him out of the sight of his
disciples. 1 Fire bore witness when the angel of the Lord
descended from heaven, and his countenance was like light-
ning, 2 for lightning has the nature of fire.

Since then, brethren, the mystery of the Cross had the wit-
ness of all that I have mentioned, let the unhappy Jew be
ashamed who denies Christ born of the Virgin, for the Jewish
shepherds found what was declared unto them. Let the gentile
who says to a stock 'Thou art my God* and to a stone 'Thou
has brought me forth' 3 be confounded; for the gentile wise
men adored Him. Let the heretic who denies the mystery of the
Cross be silent. Let every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is
Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 4 And may our Lord
Jesus, who is the splendour of lights, the flower of flowers,
the life of goodness, the school of virtues and the crown of
the saints, and who reigns over the choirs of angels for ever
and ever lead us to that glory. Amen.

1 John, vi, 19. 2 Matt, xxviii, 2-3.

3 Jer. ii, 27. 4 PHI. ii, u.

I 5 8

A Homily in Honour and 'Praise of
St. "Benedict ', Abbot and Confessor

"Simon Peter said to Jesus: "Behold, we have forsaken all,
and followed thee." ?1

We should be obliged to labour with all our strength on this
special feast of our father were it not that the noble tongue of
Gregory has given a magnificent account of his whole life. 2
His work is of such kind that he has depicted the saint's life
with the brightness of flowing eloquence; his style glows with
the majesty of his periods and his sentences shine in the clarity
of his style. It is superfluous, therefore, to add anything to
what such a man has akeady said; for we know that in com-
parison with him we are not only lacking in eloquence but
dumb. It is enough to say that St. Benedict will give to the
Heavenly Prince a great army, and fill the heavenly mansions
with a throng of monks living an angelic life. How splendid
and glorious a warrior he will appear before the imperial
tribunal, full of infinite virtue, accompanied by an innumerable
troop of soldiers, the King's counsellor, the Judge's friend,
the peerless enemy of our ancient foe!

Simon Peter's words to Jesus: 'Behold, we have forsaken
all', apply to him and to all who follow him. This is a friendly
saying of Simon's, a word lovelier than all the flowers of
rhetoric; and Simon is worthy to speak more fully with the
Saviour. Now Simon means 'obedient' and Jesus means
'saviour'. Obedience, then, speaks with salvation; for eternal

1 Matt, xix, 27. 2 Gregory the Great, Dialogue^ L

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ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

salvation is due by hereditary right to the obedient alone, and
only to them if Peter is there too; if, that is to say, obedience is
unwavering and unshaken and founded on the solid rock.
What does he say? 'Behold, we have forsaken all and followed
thee.* Solemn word, mighty undertaking, a holy -work and one
worthy of blessing, to leave all things and follow Christ. These
are the persuasive words of voluntary poverty, which have
brought forth monasteries, and filled the cloister with monks
and the woods with anchorites. These are the words of which
the Church sings: c By the word of thy lips I have kept me from
the paths of the destroyer.' 1 We shall receive rest for our
labour, riches for our poverty, a reward for our tribulation. It
is a great thing to forsake all, but to follow Christ is a greater;
for we read of many who have left all but who have not fol-
lowed Christ. This is our task, this our labour; in this lies the
essence of human salvation; nor can we follow Christ unless
we forsake all, for He rejoices as a strong man to run a race, 2
and he who bears a load cannot follow. No one swims bearing
loads, says that orator of secular teaching whose nobility of
style and profundity of meaning have made him a friend of
poverty. He does right to forsake all things who is following
Him who is above all things; for our sufficiency is of God, 3
and God will be all in all. 4

'Behold/ he says, e we have forsaken all' not only the riches
of this world but the desires of the soul too; for he who holds
on to the self has not forsaken all. And it is useless to abandon
other things if we do not abandon ourselves, since man's
heaviest burden is man himself. What tyrant is more cruel to
man, what power more savage, than his own will ? Under its
sway you can never rest or sit at your ease, and the more it
wearies you in enforcing obedience to itself, the more it goads
and stings and weighs you down, being unmindful of kindness
and a stranger to mercy. This is the nature of self-will: the
more obedient its subject, the more cruelly Is he bound in its
chains. It alone is loved; yet it deserves nothing but hatred,

1 Ps. xvH, 4. * Ps. xix, 5-

8 2 Cor. iii, 5. 4 i Cor. xv, 28.

1 60

ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

for it is the foundation of iniquity, the source of death and the
great destroyer of virtue. 'Come, then, all ye that labour and
are heavy laden' 1 to the Hghtener of loads, and answer Him in
word and deed: 'Behold, we have forsaken all and followed
thee.' Mark how once, before the Word was made flesh and
dwelt amongst us, the Fathers of ancient times followed God,
cleaving by the spirit alone to Him who was only spirit. Now,
however, we must follow Him with our bodies also; for
although we read that these fathers abounded in worldly
riches, we know now that whosoever he be of you that for-
saketh not all that he hath, he cannot be the disciple 2 of Him
who, though He was rich yet for our sakes He became poor. 3
We must forsake all our possessions and our own wills, then,
if we wish to follow Him who had nowhere to lay His head, 4
who came to do not His own will but the will of Him that
sent Him. 5

The words which follow are these: 'What shall we have
therefore ?' Peter has forsaken all; not only is he following, he
has followed for a long time; and now for the first time he
asks what he will receive. What, Peter ? Did you not promise
obedience to the voice? You made no contract with the Lord.
But listen to what the Lord God says, and await that hope in
which, in this uncertain world, we must confide. 'Verily 1 say
unto you, that ye which have followed me, in the regeneration
where the Son of Man shall sit in the throne of his glory, you
also shall sit and judge.' 6 How infinite is the sweetness of the
Lord's mercies to His poor; He does not forsake in death those
for whom He gave Himself to agony and death. 'Ye which
have followed me', He says, 'shall, in the regeneration, when
the Son of Man shall sit in the throne of his glory, also sit and
judge.' What is this but to say that we shall accompany Him
whom we follow; but only if we follow perseveringly, for it is
written 'Seek peace, and pursue it'. 7 So run, therefore, that ye
may obtain, and do not long to be idle before you have

1 Matt, xi, 28. 2 Luke xiv, 33. 8 2 Cor. viii, 9.

4 Luke ix, 58. 8 John vi, 38. 6 Matt, xix, 28.

7 Ps. xxxiv, 14.

ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

attained to Him who is seated, and so deserved to sit with
Him. For 'He rejoiced as a strong man to run a race 51 during
all the time that He revealed Himself on earth and held con-
verse with mortal men; 2 nor did He sit idle until He came to
Him whom He Himself had established as the end of striving
and sadness: c my soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death',
He said. 3 Therefore, when the Son of man, who first endured
the shameful torment of the cross, and was tried by pain and
mockery, shall sit on the throne of His glory, you also shall sit
and judge; but which of you, who give yourselves no rest,
shall begin to judge, since he came not to judge but to be
judged, not to be ministered to, but to minister? There indeed
are set thrones of judgment. 4 Our Saviour, God's Son, who
has an indivisible unity of nature, sits, because He is God, at
the right hand of God; 5 because He is man, He appears in the
presence of God for us. 6 Nor will He sit in triumph until God
is all in all, that is, until the body is united to the head in such
peace that we shall be like Him, though not equal to Him. At
this moment, however, He is still denied by the Jews, mocked
by the Gentiles, wounded by heretics, and seriously assailed by
false Christians; do you really think He sits in quietness, paying
no heed to the glances of the arrogant, the attacks of the
wicked, the desires of those who reject Him? But in the
regeneration He will sit with His followers, where we shall be
cleansed to clearest light in soul and body; then He, having
overthrown His enemies, will enter with His friends into glory,
joining angels and men in everlasting unity and restoring the
losses of the Holy City. All this shall come about in the
regeneration. Blessed regeneration, which will renew heaven
and earth, join together the dwellers on earth with the in-
habitants of heaven, and cause the fountain of perpetual peace
to flow in an unending stream.

Mark that there is one birth, but two regenerations. In our
birth, which springs from a diseased root, our bodies are made
subject to death and our souls filled with iniquity. In the

1 Ps. xix, 5. 2 Baruch Hi, 38. s Matt, xxvi, 38.

4 Ps. cxxii, 5. 5 Ps. ex, i. 6 Heb. ix, 24.

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ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

regeneration of baptism, in which we must be born again, the
soul is cleansed from iniquity, but our bodies are not freed
from death. A second regeneration, the resurrection, is neces-
sary, that our bodies may be found fashioned like to the
glorious body of Christ; 1 but this will only take place if our
hearts are first made meek and humble like His heart. There-
fore 'blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrec-
tion* 2 for he shall have part in the second also. 'In that regenera-
tion when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory,
you also shall sit and judge.*

That is why the Scriptures say elsewhere: Tor your shame
ye shall have double; and for confusion they shall rejoice in
their portion.' 3 The poverty of those who follow the Lord
brings in its train two things: suffering and lowliness. So the
Prophet says: c Look upon mine affliction and my pain/ 4
Because of this, they shall have double in their land: the dig-
nity of judicial power for their lowliness, and the refreshment
of tranquil peace for their suffering. When, then, shall we too
sit at ease, who know no rest or quiet or stability in soul or
body? When shall we be freed from the restlessness of our
unquiet nature? Our bodies can know no rest; they are pre-
vented by knowledge of present pain, fear of death to come,
passible and mortal as they are. Neither can our spirits, be-
cause we await in hope, and are anxious and fearful. But a
time will come when the soul will rest in one hope alone; it
will be freed from anxiety, though not from expectation. That
will be its state between the death of the body and the day of
judgement. For in that day, when the Son of man shall sit, we
also will sit perfect in all things, our bodies undisturbed by
knowledge of pain, undistressed by the fear of death, gloriously
clothed in the twofold robe of impassibility and immortality,
and our souls free from all expectation and anxiety, lacking
nothing and fearing no peril, in most perfect security and
secure perfection. 'You shall sit', says the Lord who is Truth.
Splendid sitting, welcome rest, full sufficiency. 'Ye sons of

1 Phil, iii, 21. 2 Rev. xx, 6.

3 Isa. bd, 7. 4 Ps. xxv, 18.

163

ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

men, how long will ye be dull of heart ? How long will ye love
vanity and seek after lying P' 1 You seek glory from your fellow-
men, a vain and deceitful glory, for men are vain and men are
liars; you do not desire the glory which comes from God
alone, the only true and lasting glory. Wretched and pitiable
creatures, who lose the fountain of delight for the sake of brief
pleasure, and cut yourselves off from the Divine mercy, so
that you will never drink your fill at the breasts of His comfort.
But lest our long awaiting should mar the sweetness of His
promise, He controls the restlessness of our minds with a
sweeter word. Tor he knoweth our frame*; 2 He knows that
our weakness cannot brook delays; in His loving kindness He
meets this problem and counteracts it, saying: 'And everyone
that hath forsaken house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or
mother, or wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake,
shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.' 3
"The mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped'; 4 now all
they who transgress without cause are ashamed. 5 For we have
promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to
come; 6 and it is clear that the promise of receiving a hundred-
fold applies to this life, since the words which follow are c and
shall inherit everlasting life'. But, to remove all possibility of
argument or denial, read St. Mark's Gospel, where it is clearly
shown that the promise of receiving a hundredfold applies to
this life. For the Lord says: 'There is no man that hath left
house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife or
children, or lands, for my sake and the gospels, but he shall
receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses and brethren
etc.' 7 And for our greater wonder, lest we should think that the
promise, although it applies to this life, concerns worldly
goods, He adds: 'with persecutions'. 8 What of earthly sub-
stance did the holy martyrs receive in the time of their persecu-
tion, when the very earth of their holy bodies was given into
the hands of wicked men? So we must not take the promise of

1 Ps. iv, 2. 2 Ps. ciii, 14. 3 Matt, xix, 29.

4 Ps. Ixiii, n. 6 Ps. xxv, 3. 6 i Tim. iv, 8.

7 Mark x, 29-30. 8 Mark x, 30.

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ST, BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

receiving houses and brethren etc. a hundredfold to apply
literally for it is obvious that no man can receive a hundred
mothers! But if we take this promise to mean that community
of goods and mutual affection which exists among the elect,
we can come part of the way towards understanding it; but
only part of the way. For we know that some of the saints
have lacked all earthly and human consolation. You must
therefore look for this hundredfold reward in your heart, in
the inner man, that now you may reap the fruits of holiness
and at the end life everlasting.

Those who have not yet received the hundredfold reward
must scrutinize their hearts and diligently examine all the
work of their hands; they will certainly find some corner or
lodging-place unknown to the Saviour. Yet the foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests. Let them forsake all
more completely; let them not seek their own, let them not
keep anything, either for themselves or for others. For there
are many who, while despising their own desires and ambi-
tions, keep for others what they ought to relinquish, for ever
striving on their behalf with an unsuitable solicitude which is
contrary to religion. How many monks lose their souls
through having a greater regard for their kinsmen than is
right ? Let them forsake all, and follow Christ; let them strive
to please Christ alone and cleave to His good will and pleasure
with watchful care; then they will certainly experience what
Truth Himself promised to those who forsake all and follow
Him: c He shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit ever-
lasting life.' The first is given to comfort us on our journey;
the second shall be given to us for blessedness in our native
land for ever. And what is our hundredfold reward but the
consolations, the visitations and the firstfruits of the Spirit,
sweeter than honey; the witness of our consciences; the joyous
and lovely expectation of the just, the memory of God's
abundant sweetness, the great multitude of His delights, of
which there is no need to tell those who have known them,
just as it is impossible to describe them to those who have not
known them. It is not father or mother, house or lands, food

ST. BENEDICT, ABBOT AND CONFESSOR

or clothing, nor any earthly or bodily thing, but something
more delectable and sweeter and more joyous than any of
them.

There is no one to whom all this exposition of our text
better applies than to our father and master St. Benedict. He
forsook die world and all its flowers in boyhood to run with
strong strides after the running Christ; and he did not rest
until he had caught up with Him. Who shall be given a higher
place among the judges ? Who more than he received a hun-
dredfold in this life? By his intercession, therefore, may He
who came that we may have life and have it more abundantly
vouchsafe to grant to us the bounty of His grace, that we may
be comforted on earth and inherit everlasting life, Jesus Christ
our Lord, who is for ever blessed. Amen.

1 66

Sermon for the Feast of the Finding
of the Holy Cross

Today, dearly beloved, we celebrate the finding of the Cross;
and we should all rejoice together in Christ, because the
treasure-house of all the world is found; and as He, finding the
sheep or the groat which was lost, summoned His friends and
neighbours and rejoiced, so it is right that we, having found
that which He did not lose, but by which He regained us who
were lost, should glory; especially since the Apostle says:
'God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord
Jesus Christ.' 1 Moreover our lively minds should the more
readily be filled with spiritual joy since we know that the
enemy of human salvation is sighing bitterly. For the devil
rejoiced, thinking that he had escaped the disgrace of his
shameful confounding, when the triumphal standard under
which he was vanquished, bowed to the dust and made cap-
tive, remained hidden; and the dishonour of the downfall
which his defeat had brought upon him was offset by the
concealment of the emblem of victory. But when it was found,
when it was revealed to the piety and devotion of Christian
people in such glory, how he blushed to see himself over-
thrown everywhere; he saw the token of divine victory reared
on all sides. For wherever the symbol of the Cross is set up,
Christ's victory and the devil's subjection are signified. You
know that our old enemy won his victory over the first man
by means of a tree, and because of that held him and all his

1 Gal. vi, 14.

THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

Issue for five thousand years under the yoke of his tyranny.
But the Son came, as a strong man to the race, that He might
strive with the powers of the air, and to that first tree opposed
another, spewing out through the bitterness of the Cross the
poisonous delight of the apple of old. When the first man,
tempted by Satan, stretched out his hand to the tree, it was as
if he wrote the bond of his unconditional servitude on wooden
tablets. But the second Adam, stretching out His hands on the
Cross, obliterated the bond of that deadly agreement. By a tree
then we were enslaved; by a tree also we have been restored to
our pristine freedom. By a tree we were cast out from Paradise;
by a tree we are called once more to our native land. And we
who because of a tree were regarded as enemies have by the
mystery of the Cross been restored to friendship with God
and concord with the angels, as the Apostle bears witness,
when he speaks of Christ to the Ephesians: Tor he is our
peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the
middle wall of partition; having abolished in his flesh the
enmity, making void even the law of commandments con-
tained in ordinances; for to make in himself of twain one new
man, so making peace, and that he might reconcile both unto
God in one body by the Cross, having slain the enmity
thereby.'

The law symbolized this standard of man's salvation by
many figures and enigmas; all the oracles of the prophets and
the authority of the old dispensation venerate it. Every page
of Holy Scripture is concerned with the mystery of the Cross,
and is directed towards it as to the head and source of human
salvation. We think it fruitful to illustrate some of those testi-
monies which apply to the mystery of the Cross, that through
mentioning some briefly we may give the understanding more
ready access to those concerning which we are silent. Let
Abraham stand forth first; for when he desked to sacrifice his
son to God, he signified the whole mystery of the Lord's
passion. For just as Abraham (whose name means 'highest
father') did not hesitate to offer his only and beloved son to
God, so the Father on high delivered up His only-begotten

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THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

and beloved Son for our sakes. And as Isaac himself carried
the wood on which he was to be laid, so Christ carried on His
shoulders the wood of the Cross on which He was to suffer for
our salvation. The two servants who were sent away sym-
bolize the Jews, who, living like slaves and having knowledge
only according to the flesh, could not understand the high
lowliness of Christ, and did not go up into the mountain
which was the place of sacrifice. There were two slaves be-
cause, as a result of Solomon's sin, the people of Israel were
divided into two; of them the prophet often said: 'Backsliding
Israel, and treacherous Juda.' 1 The ass used by Abraham repre-
sents the uncomprehending stupidity of the Jews. For that
foolish beast bore the whole mystery, but knew not what it
did. What was said to them? 'Wait here with the ass, and I
and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to
you.' 2 Listen to the words of the Apostle: 'Blindness in part
has happened to Israel, that the fulness of the Gentiles come
in, and so all Israel shall be saved/ 3 'Blindness in part has
happened to Israel' that is symbolized by 'wait here with the
ass'; that the fullness of the Gentiles may come in that is,
after we have worshipped, when the fulfilled sacrifice of the
Lord's Cross shall be preached to all peoples. 'And all Israel
shall be saved' that is what is meant by *we will come again
to you'.

What does the ram caught in a thicket by his horns, who
was sacrificed in Isaac's place, signify? A cross has horns; if
you lay two pieces of wood across one another, you get the
form of a cross. That is why it was written concerning Christ:
'He had horns coming out of his hand.' 4 The ram was caught
by his horns; Christ was crucified among the sharp and wound-
ing iniquities of the Jews, as He Himself complains in the
person of Jeremiah: 'This people hath surrounded me with
the thorns of its sins/ When the sacrifice was over, it was said
to Abraham: 'In thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be
blessed'; 5 and after the Lord says: 'They have pierced my

1 Jer. ill. a Gen. xxii, 5. 3 Rom. xi, 25-26.

4 Hab. iii, 4. 5 Gen. xxii, 18.

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THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

hands and my feet', 1 He continues: 'All the ends of the world
shall remember and turn unto the Lord: and all the kindreds
of the nations shall worship before thee. For the Kingdom is
the Lord's and he is the governor among the nations/ 2 When
Abraham had offered his son, and sacrificed the ram in his
place, he called that place 'the Lord is seen* because our
Redeemer, after He had offered Himself on the altar of the
Cross and paid the debt of our death, showed Himself to the
eyes of His faithful followers; and so all the redeemed may see
Him now by faith, who till then had not the eyes of faith.

As we have said a good deal about Abraham and his sacri-
fice, we will be briefer about our other examples. Jacob
symbolized the mystery of the Cross, when he spoke of Christ
in his words of blessing: 'He washed his garments in wine and
his clothes in the blood of grapes.' 3 The garments of Christ are
the multitude of the nations, in which He clothed Himself
when He joined them to Himself by the grace of redemption,
as the prophet promised: 'As I live, saith the Lord, thou shalt
surely clothe thee with them all, as with an ornament.' 4 The
Lord washed His garments in wine and His clothes in the blood
of grapes on the tree of the Cross. For then blood and water
flowed from His side. The water cleansed us, the blood re-
deemed us, so that He might present to Himself a bride with-
out spot or wrinkle. 5 Again, Jacob bore clear witness to the
mystery of the Cross when he preferred the young Ephraim to
Manasseh the first-born, stretching his arms out over them in
the form of a cross. For through the Cross the Gentiles,
although lacking the right of the first-born, have precedence
over the Jews. And there is a passage in Exodus which clearly
refers to the mystery of the Lord's Cross. The Lord said to
Moses: 'Cast the rod which thou bearest in thy hand upon the
ground'; and he cast it on the ground and it became a serpent.
Moses was afraid and fled from before it. And the Lord said to
Moses: Take it by the tail'; and Moses caught it and it became
a rod again. 6 We are all well aware that a serpent lured man to

1 Ps. xxii, 16. 2 Ibid., 27-28. 8 Gen. xlk, n.

4 Isa. xlix, 1 8 5 Eph. v, 27. 6 Exod. iv, 3-4.

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THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

death. Death, then, comes from the serpent. And the rod is
Christ, of whom the prophet said: "There shall come forth a
rod out of the stem of Jesse.' 1 The rod becomes a serpent;
Christ dies. Moses was afraid and fled; and all the apostles were
stricken with fear when they saw their dying Lord hanging
on the Cross, and fled from the solid foundation of their
certain hope and firm faith. The tail, being the end of the body,
symbolizes the ending of the Lord's passion. Moses seised its
tail, and the rod was a rod once more, and no serpent; simi-
larly, when the Lord's passion was over and the mystery of
the Cross consummated, all the faithful returned to their
belief, and Christ, having destroyed death, restored Himself to
His former state in the glory of His resurrection. . . . 2

You will see from what I have said, brethren, that this
emblem of heavenly triumph, by which the world was loosed
from the bonds of her ancient captivity, was adored by the
Fathers from the world's beginning, and foretold by the
Prophets and prefigured on every page of the Holy Scriptures,
That which we adore in grace, they venerated in faith. And
we now see fulfilled, by the grace of the Mediator, what was
prefigured to them in enigmas; what they predicted in spirit
we can behold and embrace with our bodily eyes. O wonderful
loving-kindness of our Creator! O praiseworthy humility of
our Redeemer! He deigned to suffer the pains of a most cruel
death, that He might win for us a crown. He chose of His own
wiU the dreadful torments of the Cross in order to raise us
from the yoke of slavery to the kingdom. He did not scorn to
be cursed, so that He might free us from the law's curse. He
suffered a shameful death to deliver us from the disgrace of
everlasting death. So the Apostle says: 'Christ hath redeemed
us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us; for it
is written: Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree: that the
blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through

1 Isa. xi, i.

2 I have here omitted a good deal of scriptural exegesis which follows the same
lines as the foregoing passages.

THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

Jesus Christ; that we might receive the promise of the Spirit
through faith.' 1

Since then, my brothers, we are loosed from the yoke of
slavery and have, through Christ, received the blessing of
Abraham, nothing remains for us to do but to preserve by the
goodness of our lives the gifts of the Redeemer which we have
received through grace; lest we who are reborn in Christ
through baptism should, by living once more according to the
old man, be condemned to damnation. Let us sing today in
the church the song of David: 'They are cursed who do err
from thy commandments/ 2 Mark this sentence well; it does not
say: e Cursed are those who are not reborn through thy sacra-
ments' but *who do err from thy commandments'; it is not
only those who have not been reborn in Christ through the
water of baptism who are threatened by the bonds of cursing,
but those too whose wickedness causes them to wander from
the straight path of God's commandments and to turn aside
down the vicious road to ruin. Of what use is it to be delivered
from the chains of the ancient curse if we renew them once
more by evil living ? Now, the Apostle says: *If any man love
not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema.' 3 Note again
that he does not say: *If any man be not reborn in our Lord
Jesus Christ' but *if any man love Him not'; it is useless for a
man reborn in Christ to have been baptized if he is not dead
with Christ to his former life; he cannot be completely loosed
from the chains of cursing. Tor if we have been planted to-
gether in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the like-
ness of his resurrection'; 4 and again: 'If we suffer, we shall also
reign with him; if we be dead with him we shall also live with
him.' 5 But who is he who does not love Christ? Which of us,
if he were asked whether he loved Christ, would not im-
mediately and unfailingly declare that he did? In fact, he who
does not love Christ's Cross does not love Christ. And who
are they who do not love Christ's Cross ? St. Paul tells us quite
clearly: 'Many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now

3 Gal. iii, 13-14. a Ps. cxix, 21. 3 i Cor. xvi, 22.

4 Rom. vi, 5. 5 2 Tim. ii, 11-12.

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THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

tell you weeping, that they are the enemies of the Cross of
Christ; whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly, and
whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.' 1
And James says: 'Whosoever is the friend of the world is the
enemy of God.' 2

Let him who desires to be loosed from the chains of cursing
and to attain to the full blessing of new grace love the Cross,
from which all the fullness of blessing flows. Let him bind
himself to God's commandments by the Cross. Let him
restrain the unbridled lusts of the flesh by means of the Cross.
For if by yielding to the flesh we incur the sentence of damna-
tion, by restraining it we shall deserve the grace of blessedness.
From the wine-press of the Cross a great flood of blessing has
flowed, which washed away all the poison of the ancient curse.
From it fall drops of heavenly grace, which bring life-giving
moisture to the dryness of men's spirits, and cause them to
abound in the happy fruit of all the virtues. This is that cloud
shaped like a man's foot-mark which appeared to Elijah in the
time of drought, and which soon let fall a great rain. The
Scriptures tell us of this: 'Behold there ariseth a little cloud
out of the sea, like a man's foot-mark.' 3 Now it is said to have
arisen like a man's footprint and not like a man because it
symbolizes the Cross which was fitted to the limbs of Christ.
And the Cross is rightly likened to a man's footprint because
by it the God-man made His departure when He returned to
the Father, as John tells us: 'Jesus knew that his hour was
come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father.' 4
Now Pasch means 'a passing over'. And this passing over was
brought about by the Cross, as the Apostle says: 'Christ our
passover is sacrificed for us.' As He came down to us through
a Virgin, so He returned to His own through the Cross. That
miracle which Elishah worked is a symbol of this. Men were
cutting down wood by the Jordan when an axe-head fell into
the water. Then the prophet threw the haft into the water, and
the iron floated and came back to its haft. The axe represents

1 PHI. Hi, 18-19. 2 Jas. iv, 4.

3 i Kings xviii, 44. 4 John xiii, i.

THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

God's wisdom working through the flesh; the iron is His
divinity and the wood His humanity. We may rightly use
wood to symbolize the body of Christ which hung from a tree.
And the axe cut down trees on the banks of the Jordan because
the Wisdom of God deigned to correct the impious Jews by
the severity of His preaching, standing on the banks of the
river of our mortality, hewing them down like barren trees in
the stiffness of their pride. So John said: 'The axe is laid unto
the root of the trees: therefore every tree which bringeth not
forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire.' 1 And
when the trees were cut down, the axehead fell down from its
haft, for when Truth had corrected the wild spirits of the Jews,
His divinity forsook its flesh and descended to the depths of
hell. But the haft was put into the water, and the axe-head
returned to it; for the Lord's body, which had hung on the
Cross, was placed in the sepulchre, and when His spirit
returned from hell it rose again.

We must mark and most diligently consider, brethren, that
our Redeemer first passed over by the Cross and so raised His
humanity to the glory of the right hand of the Father. In
doing so He gave us an example: where the head goes, the
members must follow. We are signed with the Cross on our
foreheads; it will avail even more to our salvation if we hold
it in our hearts. When the angel of death saw both doorposts
smeared with blood, he passed by instead of bursting in. Let
no one rely on the mark of the cross on his forehead if he does
not show forth the truth of the Cross in his works. St. Paul
showed forth the Cross in his behaviour most notably, and
said: 'I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.' 2

Therefore, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all
defilement of body or spirit; let us arm ourselves to break the
assault of our enemies, the vices, let us counteract the passions
of carnal pleasure, and minister lovingly to the needs of our
neighbours and suffer injuries in a spirit of charity. Let our
souls be free from all the burdens of earthly greeds, so that,
hurled on wings of holy desire they may forsake the depths
1 Matt, iii, to. 2 Gal, vi, 17.

THE FEAST OF THE FINDING OF THE HOLY CROSS

and returning to their Maker rest sweetly in His love. Let us
despise all that we see and hasten with unceasing labour to
that which we believe. This indeed is the Cross which we must
imprint on all our actions, all our behaviour. This is the Cross
which we are commanded to bear after the Lord daily. He who
carries it truly shares in the passion of his Redeemer. This
emblem will separate the sheep from the goats in the last
judgement. And the judge, who knows not the wicked, will
recognize this mark in His own. Those whom He sees marked
with the seal of His own death He will, as a gracious rewarder,
invite to partake in the prize of everlasting life: 'Come,' He
will say, c ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom' 1 of
Him with whom He Himself lives and reigns for ever and ever.
Amen.

1 Matt, xxv, 34.

175

Sermon on the Holy Spirit and His Grace

Dearly beloved, we are gladdened by your request, which
does you honour; the tearful complaints with which you im-
portune us are a matter for rejoicing; for during the last few
days we have, in order to lament our sins more deeply, placed
our body behind a barrier of solitude and compelled our tongue
to be silent. You knock, you ask, you entreat me to give you
words of edification; and because I have passed the octave of
Pentecost in silence you think that the well-being of your souls
has suffered, since we have not held much converse concerning
the coming of the Holy Spirit, as is our custom. Therefore we
give thanks to the Lord to see you eager for that banquet, for
we had thought you reluctant to touch it, suffering from some
complaint of the spiritual stomach, and near to death. And
although charity will not permit disagreement to arise among
brothers, I must confess that in this matter your sorrow has
given joy to my heart, your bitter sadness brought sweetness
to my breast. For that same cause which has made your souls
pine in sadness will bring about the joy of true salvation, as
the Apostle says: c Godly sorrow worketh repentance to sal-
vation/ 1 But why do you, who read the homilies of the holy
fathers and are daily engaged in meditation upon the scriptures,
desire, surrounded as you are by the depths of such streams,
to drink the unworthy water of so barren and wretched a man
as I? You are impelled thereto, not by the love of knowledge
which puffeth up, but by charity, which edifieth. 2 If I speak to
you as you ask, what am I doing but repeating less eloquently
1 2 Cor. Tii, 10. 2 i Cor. viii, x.

176

SERMON ON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND HIS GRACE

what you have already read ? But since you are so earnest in
your entreaties, since you are gathered together at this holy
time, and, having come out from your cells as if raised from
the grave, show yourselves to my view in the joy of resurrec-
tion, I will, if you command me, and as far as divine grace
allows, compose something for you in my own clumsy fashion.
I would not wish to appear to fail you, so I will add a few
country herbs to the rich dishes of your reading. I hope your
wishes will be satisfied; for I lack eloquence and what I en-
deavour to write will differ from the spoken word. But where
should I begin if not with the Holy Spirit, whose feast you
have just celebrated, and concerning whom you complain that
you have not heard me preach ? We will approach our task in
confidence and without fear, for He of whom we wish to
speak will Himself ensure that we speak worthily.

The first thing to mark, brethren, and to strive to remember,
is that without the grace of the Holy Spirit no man, however
hard he struggles and strives, can rise to good works or bring
forth fruit pleasing to God. A tree rooted in the earth draws
its sap from the ground's moisture; this spreads through all its
parts, bringing increase of strength and height and sending
forth buds and twigs. All the faithful are trees in the holy
grove of the Church, set there by the hand of the great Forester.
Paul spoke of this planting to the Ephesians: *He would grant
you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened
with might by his Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may
dwell in your hearts by faith (ye being) rooted and grounded
in love/ 1 Our land, in which we send down the root of hope,
is that of which the Psalmist said: c my portion is in the land of
the living'; 2 it is the humanity of Christ, of which the same
prophet says elsewhere: *He hath established the world, that it
cannot be moved.' 3 If, then, we do not wish to be burned like
barren trees, if we fear to be hewn down with the axe and cast
into the fire, let the root of our hope cling closely in the bonds
of love to the humanity of our Redeemer, to our native land,
the heavenly city, that we may grow in strength and power
1 Eph. iil, 16-17. 2 Ps. cxlii, 5. 8 Ps. xciii, i.

M 177

SERMON ON THE HOLT SPIRIT AND HIS GRACE

and send forth the fruit of good works. But just as a tree
withers if it is deprived of the moisture of the quickening sap,
so our souls, unless watered by the dew of the grace of the
Holy Spirit, dry up, and are unable to produce any buds of
good works. For He pours light into our minds, arouses our
desire and gives us strength. He gives us light, that we may
see; rouses us, that we may will; strengthens us that we may
bring about the good which we desire. From His richness our
tears spring, through it our minds know compunction, our
sins are confessed. As the soul is the life of the body, so the
Holy Spkit is the life of our souls. And as the body collapses
if the soul departs, so if the life-giving Spirit leaves our souls
they too must die; for without His grace we cannot by any
exercise of the mind come to a knowledge of God, or enter
into the things of God; the Apostle bears witness to this when
he says: 'The spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of
God/ 1 And he adds: Tor what man knoweth the things of a
man, save the spirit of man which is in him? Even so the
things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God.' 2

But do you ask, dearly beloved, how a man may know
whether he has the Spirit of God ? If you truly know God,
then you may be sure that you have His Spirit. If, as the apostle
says, no man knoweth the things of God save the Spirit of
God, how can we know God unless we have His Spirit ? You
may, however, well wonder whether you know God. Listen
to the words of the apostle John: 'He that saith, I know him,
and keepeth not his commandments is a liar.' 3 He then who
keeps His commandments really knows God. That is why that
perfect keeper of God's commandments could safely say: *We
have received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which
is of God.' 4 The spirit of the world is that spirit which tempts
men to scorn the divine commandments, to engage with
pleasure in earthly affairs, to seek the heights of worldly
dominion, to submit to the shameful passions of fleshly delight,
to increase their material possessions, and to strive after power

1 i Cot. ii, 10. a Ibid., n.

* I Jobn ii, 4. * i Cor. ii, xa.

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SERMON ON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND HIS GRACE

over their fellows in their swollen pride. But the Spirit which
is of God urges all the souls He fills towards heavenly things,
casts out the chill of negligence and of the flesh and kindles
them to love of God, restrains the wanton desires of the body,
and raises up the heart, having freed it from all earthly de-
lights. By Him men are made unyielding in their scorn of
material prosperity and strong in overcoming obstacles; it
makes them humbly subject to the good but causes them to
oppose unbendingly, by right of their free authority, those
who do evil; this Spirit inebriates those whom it fills and know-
ingly makes them strangers to affection for our present life.
And were not they truly drunk with divine sobriety of whom
evil madmen said: 'These men are full of new wine' P 1 Is it not
a sort of divine inebriation to despise all that is present to the
senses, to scorn all that we see, and to set all the desire of our
souls upon things unseen; to reject all that is soft and pleasant
and freely to suffer what is harsh and difficult for love of God ?
We must persevere in prayer, brethren, that such drunkenness
may be granted to us; we must thirst after it with the dry
mouth of the spirit.

Our souls then must seek this Spirit without ceasing; by His
quickening they live, by His light they see, by His teaching
they know, by His leadership they come by the unhindered
way of love to their native country. Let us then ask of our
God, not as the poor entreat the rich of this world, for money,
or food, or clothing for our naked bodies, for He who forbade
us to be anxious and careful of these things knows that we
have need of them; but let us implore Him to give us that
which we need more than anything else, and which it most
delights Him to give to those who ask fot it. We must demand
without ceasing that which He Himself urges us to demand
and gives us certain hope of receiving. For if we ask, if we
knock *it shall be opened unto us; and our heavenly Father
will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him'. 2 But we who
beg alms from our source of riches should, in order to receive
in plenty, borrow from the poor of this world our mode of
1 Acts ii, 13. 2 Luke xi, 9, 13,

SERMON ON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND HIS GRACE

asking. For when poor men are anxious to receive something
from men in high station they loosen the mouths of their
wallets, and, being ready to receive, cry out as loudly as they
can, so that they may, as soon as they are seen through the
window, receive alms. Our wallets are our hearts; if we wish
to receive into them the gifts of heavenly grace, we must
empty them of the old leaven of earthly desires. And we en-
large our wallets if we long for heavenly gifts in a fire of
perfect love. Paul certainly loosed the mouth of this wallet,
for he said: tf O ye Corinthians, our mouth is open unto you,
our heart is enlarged.' 1 And he urges them to loose it: 'Ye are
not straitened in us'; 2 and again: 'I speak as unto my children:
be ye also enlarged.' 3 Let us note how another poor man pre-
pared himself to receive gifts from above; he cried, he shouted,
he implored, he groaned with the voice of the spirit: *My
heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready.' 4 It is as if he had said
openly: I have prepared my heart, Lord, to receive the gifts of
Your bounty, for I have cleansed it from all the filth of wicked
thoughts, and there is nothing left in it which would refuse the
gift of Your grace coming from above. I have striven to cast
out what was evil in it; do You hasten in Your mercy to fill it
with the gift of Your loving kindness. I have emptied my heart
and am holding it ready for You; I have dug out all the stones
of vice, and long with all my soul to embrace the grace of Your
Holy Spirit. So you, God's poor, hold your hearts in readiness,
who keep them clean of wicked thoughts. But unless someone
from the interior of the dining hall hears you calling and plead-
ing, no one will corne to give alms to the poor. That is why
David goes on to say: *I will sing and recite a psalm to the
Lord'; as if to say: I have prepared my heart, I cry aloud
without ceasing, that the sound of my voice may move Thee
to pity; the heart being ready, that which is given from Thy
bounty will not be spilled out.

Two things are most necessary, brethren, to you who from
love of solitude live as hermits, and strive after the vision of

1 2 Cot. vi, ii.
* Ibid., 13. 4 Ps. Ivii, 7.

1 80

SERMON ON THE HOLY SPIRIT AND HIS GRACE

the contemplative life. You must be assiduous in singing the
psalms and watchful in frequent prayer; and you must fight
against the assault of invading distractions with all the might
of virtue. Let us then remove all the dirt from the hospice of
our hearts and strew them with all the flowers of virtue. It is
God's delight to enter the tabernacle of our breasts, and to
feast there on the sweet dishes of good works. And being thus
prepared and adorned within, let us sing and pray and sum-
mon Him by all the supplications of our fervent spirits. So we
shall fulfil the words of the prophet: c My heart is ready O God,
my heart is ready; I will sing, and recite a psalm to the Lord/
Let us earnestly beseech our Redeemer and implore Him with
all our strength to visit, in His loving mercy, our hearts; to
drive out from them all the darkness of sin, and enlighten them
with the grace of the Holy Spirit. Thus, the Spirit who in
regenerating us gave us faith in Him will lead us by a sure path
to Him who with the Father and the same Holy Spirit lives
and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

181

I. SOURCES

Migne, J. P. Patrokgia Latina.
Petri Damiani Opera Omnia.

Vol. 144. Epistolae. Sermones. Vitae Sanctorum.
Vol. 145. Opuscula. Carmina Sacra. Preces.

See also
Brezzi, P. and Nardi, B. De divina omni potentia et altri opuscolL

Firenze, 1943.
Campana, A. 'Due lettere nuove di S. Pier Damiano' in

Rivista di Storia delta Chiesa in Italia, I, 1947.
Gaudemi, A. ^11 codice vaticano del monastero di Acereta* in

Studi medievali^ III, 2 (1909). Contains a short metrical life

of Damian.
Leclercq, J. e Une lettre inedite de S. Pierre Darnien' in Studia

A.nselmiana> 18-19, I 947-
'Les inedits de S. Pierre Damien' in Revue Benedictine, 67,

Wilmart, A. c Une lettre inedite de S. Pierre Damien a Timpera-
trice Agnes' in Revue Benedictine, 44, 1932.

2. SECONDARY AUTHORITIES

Albers, P. 'Cassians Einfluss auf die Regel des heil. Benedikt' in
Studien und Mitteilungen %ur Geschichte des Benediktiner-
Ordens, 46 (1923).

Berliere, U. LJOrdre Monastlque. Maredsous, 1912.
UA.scese Benedictine. Paris and Maredsous, 1927.
Biron, R. S. Pierre Damien. Paris, 1908.

Blum, O. J. St. Peter Damian; His Teaching on the Spiritual Life.
Washington, 1947.

182

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Borino, G. B. (ed.) Studi Gregorian!.

Butler, C. Benedictine Monachism. London, 1924.

Capecelatro, A. Storia di S. Pier Damiano e del suo tempo.

Firenze, 1862.
Chadwick, O. John Cassian. A. Study in Primitive Monasticism*

Cambridge, 1950.

Delatte, P. Commentaire sur la regie de S, Benoit. Paris, 1913.
Dresdner, A. Kulturund Sittengeschichte der italienischen Geist-

lichkeit im 10 und 11 Jahrhunderten. Breslau, 1890.
Dressier, F. Petrus Damianl: Leben und Werk (Studia Anselmiana

34). Rome, 1954.
Endres, J. Tetrus Damiani und die weltliche Wissenschaft* in

Beitrage %ur Gescbichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, 8, 3.

Munster, 1901.
Fehr, J. Tetrus DamianTs Jugendzeit* in Oesterreichische

Vierteljahres-schrift fur Katholische Theologie^ 7 (1868).
Fliche, A. La Reforme Gregorienne. Louvain, 1924.
Franke, W. Romuald von Camaldoli und seine Reformtatigkeit %ur

Zeit Ottos III. Berlin, 1913.
Giabbani, A. *I1 desiderio della contemplazione in S. Pier

Damiano* in Vita Christiana^ 10 (1938).
Gougaud, L. Er mites et Reclus. Liguge, 1928.
Hartmann, L. M. Geschichte Italiens im Mittelalter.
Horle, H. Fruhmittelalterliche Monchs- und Klerikerbildung in

Italien. Freiburg, 1914.
Kehr, F. Italia Pontificia.

Kleinermanns, J. Der Heilige Petrus Damiani. Steyl, 1882.
Kiihn, L. Petrus Damiani und seine Anschauungen uber Staat und

Kirche. Karlsruhe, 1913.
Lugano, P. U Italia benedettina. Rome, 1929.
Manacorda, C. Storia della scuola in Italia. EL Milano, 1914.
Manitius, M. Geschichte der lateinischen literatur des mittelalters.
Mittarelli, G. B. and Costadoni, A. Annaks Camaldulenses.

Venice, 1755.

Neukirch, F. Das Leben des Petrus Damiani. Gottingen, 1875.
Pagnani, A, Vita di S. Romuald abbate. Sassoferrato, 1927.
Raby, F. J. E. A History of Christian Latin Poetry. Oxford.

183

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Viscardi, A. *La scuola medievale e la tradmone scolastica

classica' in Studi Medieval^ n.s. II (1938).
Whitney, J. P. Hildebrandine Essays. Cambridge, 1932. This is

still the best introduction to Peter Damian in English.
Wilmart, H. Auteurs spirituels et textes devots du moyen age latin.

Paris, 1932.

184

Index of Persons and Places
in the Introduction

Acereta, monastery of St. John,

near Faenza, 20
Agnes, Empress, 12, 13, 21, 29,

30
Alexander II, Pope (Anselm of

Lucca), 12, 23, 24, 25, 33
Amalarius, 48
Ambrose, St., 48, 49
Anno, archbishop of Cologne,

12, 21

Antony of Egypt, St., 51
Arnold, archbishop of Ravenna,

12

Athanasius, St., 47
Augustine, St., 26, 31, 47, 48,

49, 50, 52
Azo, jurist, of Parma, 14

Basil, St., 47, 49
Beatrice of Tuscany, 12
Bede, 48
Benedict, St., 41, 45, 47, 51

Regula Monachorutn, 16, 51, 52
Berliere, Dom U., 47
Bernard, St., 40
Bertha, wife of Henry IV, 25
Burchard of Worms, 48

Cadalus of Parma, antipope, 24
Camerino, 20

Camporeggiano, monastery of
St. Bartholomew, 20

Cassian, John,^i, 47, 48, 51, 52
Catherine of Siena, St., 28
Clement II, Pope, 20
Cluny, 25, 28, 42, 50
Constantinople, 48
Cyril, St., 49

Damian, brother of Peter Dam-
ian, 13

Damian, nephew of Peter Dam-
ian, 1 6

Dante Alighieri, 27

Desiderius of Monte-Cassino,
n, 12, 29, 30, 49

Desiderius of Vienne, 15

Dominicus Loricatus, prior of
Suavicino, 39

Donatus, Aelius, 16

Drogo, bishop of Macon, 25

Drogo, jurist, of Parma, 14

Eusebius of Caesarea, 49

Faenza, 14, 20, 25

Fonte Avellana, monastery of
St. Andrew and the Holy
Cross, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20,

25, 27, 32,45,48,49
Avellanese Congregation, 11,

20, 36, 37, 48
Frankfurt, 25

185

INDEX

Gaetani, Costantmo, n

Gamugnium, hermitage of St.
Barnabas, 20, 39

Geizo, jurist, of Parma, 14

Gerbert of Rheims (Pope Syl-
vester II), 14

Leo the Great, Pope, 49
Leo IX, Pope, n> 21, 22, 33

Macarius, St., 51
Matilda of Tuscany, 12
Milan, 23

Godfrey of Lorraine, Duke of Mittarelli and Costadoni, n

Tuscany, 12, 21

Monte- Acuto, 20

Gregory the Great, Pope, 15, 26, Monte-Cassino, 38, 48, 49

47,48,49, 50, 52
Gregory VI, Pope, 12, 20
Gregory Nazianzen, St., 49
Gubbio, 17, 20
Guido, abbot of Pomposa, 19

Henry II, Emperor, 13
Henry III, Emperor, 12, 20, 21
Henry IV, Emperor, 25
Hilary, St., 48

Mount Catria, 17, 20
Murciano, monastery of St.
Gregory, 20

Nicetas Stethatos, 48
Nicholas II, Pope, 23, 24, 33
Nilus of Rossano, St., 40, 48

Origen, 48

Hildebrand (later Pope Gregory Ostia, cardinal-bishopric of, n,

VII), n, 12, 22, 25

Homodei, grammarian, of Par-
ma, 14

Hugh, abbot of Cluny, 12, 42

Hugo, astronomer, 14

Humbert, cardinal-bishop of
Silva-Candida, 11, 12, 22

Innocent IV, Pope, 21

Jerome, St., 12, 15, 47, 48, 49,

50, 5*, 5*

John of Fecamp, 13, 40
John of Lodi, n, 17, 18, 20
Jordanus, 49
Justinian, Emperor, 12, 16, 49

Lanfranc, n

Lateran synods, 24, 33

Leclercq, Dom J., 32

22, 23

Pachomius, St., 49

Palladius, 52

Parma, 14

Paschasius Radbertus, 49

Paul, St., 47

Perugia, 20

Peter, cardinal-deacon, 21

Peter, Cerebrosus, 36, 38

Peter, scholasticus of Ravenna,

14

Peter Damian, St.
writings, 11-12
spiritual teaching, 26-47
the solitary life, 40-3
sources of ascetkal thought,

47-52

early years, 12-13
education, 13-15

186

INDEX

attitude to learning, 15-16
life at Fonte Avellana, 16-20
prior of Fonte Avellana, 20
cardinal and papal legate, 22-5
Petrapertusa, monastery of St.

Vincent, 19

Pomposa, monastery of St. Mary,
19

Rainerius, grammarian, of Faen-

za, 14

Ralph Glaber, 14
Ravenna, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 19,

*5

Rimini, 20

Rome, 25, 48

Romuald, St., 13, 40, 47, 51

Sitria, hermitage, 20
Smaragdus, 49
Stephen IX, Pope, 22, 33, 38
Suavicino, hermitage, 20, 39
Symeon the New Theologian,
15,48

Theodoric the Ostrogoth, 12
Theodulf, grammarian, of
Parma, 14

Venantius Fortunatus, 13
Vilgardus, grammarian, of Rav-
enna, 14

Whitney, J. P., 24, 27
William of Volpiano,

(Continued from front jkipl
that life of perfection which had previ-
ously been regarded as the prerogative of
the monk. He was, also, a poet of con-
siderable power,

Although St, Peter Damian wrote no
treatise on the contemplative life as suck
his writings are filled with references to
devotional and ascetic ideals, and from
these it is possible to piece together his
theory of contemplation. The editor, a
British scholar who is preparing a critical
edition of Damian's works, has chosen
three of his treatises *'The Lord Be with
You/' "On the Perfection of Monks,"
and "Concerning True Happiness and
Wisdom" and four sermons which illus-
trate his theories most clearly.

Miss McNulty has pro?ided in her full
introduction a short biography of St.

Peter Damian and an analysis of the
ciples underlying his spirituality, IE
lating from the Bible s she has used the
Authorized Version, Msgr. trans-

lation of the Vulgate and, where Damian's
text differs from both of these, has
her own translation.

No,9442A

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